Once Upon a Tie
by DaisyDay
Summary: *MORE COURTROOM TESTIMONY!* ...Mike and Connie had an instant connection the first time they accidentally meet. So can they push their attraction for one another aside as they work an unusual case together? A rom-com version of L and O. And yes, there will be courtroom action included!
1. Chapter 1

ONCE UPON A TIE

Chapter 1

SPRING, 2007

It was a beautiful spring day and Macy's Department store in New York City was bustling the shoppers.

This particular Macy's in Herald Square was considered a landmark in The Big Apple. With its Beaux Arts design and Art Deco touches, not much has changed for this shopping store icon since the 1947 movie "Miracle of 34th Street" made this store a classic.

Mike Cutter had strolled into the men's department of that store, just before noon. A variety of ties in all manner of colors and fabrics were on display, neatly fanned out on two credenzas.

He knew some women considered shopping therapeutic, but to him it was a mission he needed to get accomplished. Get in, purchase, and get out in one fell swoop. Shopping today was a necessity for tomorrow would be an important day for him. Jack McCoy had been promoted to succeed Arthur Branch as District Attorney. Now Mike, along with two other candidates, was being considered for the position of Executive Assistant District Attorney, the second-in-command in the DA's office.

And he was here to select the right tie for that interview.

From the credenza, Mike first picked up a navy colored based tie with a geometric pattern of orange and gold. Upon closer inspection he felt this tie had '_Your objection is overruled due to boredom_ ' written all over it, making Mike put it back down immediately.

There were plenty of other ties on the table to choose from.

As he reached over for another one, a random shopper had hurriedly whisked by the tie display. With her huge bag, she had managed to brush against a line of the ties that had been on the table, causing a handful of them to come tumbling down. Mike watched with disdain as the careless shopper continued on her absent-minded way, oblivious to the mess she had created behind her.

_Great,_ thought Mike sarcastically, looks like he'll be the one to pick up the ties.

Bending down, he began retrieving the newly fallen items. He paused when one of the ties caught his eye. It was an elegant periwinkle blue foulard tie. Holding the silky tie in his hand, its subtle, sophisticated design seemed to say, '_Your summation was brilliant, the defendant is guilty'._

Mike smiled to himself. _Perfect_, he decided.

Then he looked down and picked up the remaining ties, trying to rearrange them back on the display table.

.

Meanwhile, Connie Rubirosa had rushed through the entrance doors of Macy's, made a sharp left and was in the men's department in no time. It was lunchtime and she had just enough time to buy a tie as a gift for Jack's promotion party.

Once in the tie area, she saw what she interpreted as a nicely groomed salesman in a conservative suit, carefully assembling some ties on the table, The timing couldn't have been better, she thought. A second opinion from an expert would be most welcomed.

"Excuse me," Connie walked up to an unsuspecting Mike, who was busy still arranging the ties, "Do you work here?"

Mike's hands stopped organizing the ties.

_Someone thinks I'm a sales clerk_, Mike thought, smiling secretly to himself. Looking up, his intent was to correct her.

"Actually-" he began until his throat caught at the sight of Connie.

Standing before him was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. The woman before him possessed a dark beauty with her rich, brunette hair and warm brown eyes. However her uniqueness went beyond her physical looks, for he sensed a strong intelligence mixed alongside her feminine grace.

He had never had such a strong reaction a female as he continued gazing at her. Unaware of the effect she had on him, she tried again.

"Are you a sales associate?" She inquired patiently.

Mike needed to think quickly. It wasn't often he came across such a captivating woman and if he said he was not a sales associate, that would be the end of their interaction.

"I can certainly help you." Mike responded evasively but helpfully.

_Why did I say that?_ he berated himself.

Yet he did not retract his statement. When she smiled back at him, it seemed to brighten the entire store and it was his intention now to keep her talking to him as long as she could.

"That's great," she seemed pleased, "I'm looking for a tie," she stated as she turned towards the credenza and began looking over the vast array of ties shown, " for someone very special."

Disappointment filled Mike's mind at the thought that she was taken. But of course she was.

"I'm sure we could find something here for your boyfriend or husband," Mike looked down casually at the ties.

"Actually," Connie responded, still unaware of Mike's thoughts as she also scanned the ties "No...it's ... for my boss."

Mike felt relieved as he looked over at her.

"I'm glad."

"What?" Connie looked at him with a puzzled expression. This was the first time that she had a good look at him and her initial thought that he was distinguishly handsome with intelligent eyes.

Mike could feel his cheeks getting hot, "I'm glad you've decided to buy a tie from us. That's why I'm here."

He was surprised that lightning didn't strike him where he stood.

Connie attractively lifted one of her eyebrows, "O-_kay_...nevertheless...do you have an opinion as to what type of tie I should buy?"

Mike cleared his throat.

_If you want to prolong this conversation, Cutter_, he mused to himself, _best to act like a salesman_.

"In my professional opinion.." stated Mike in all seriousness, "Whichever tie you choose , keep in mind that they are the one accessory a man wears that can make a bold statement. It can say business, casual or formal. It can also reflect the kind of man he is, so it's important that you pick one that will send out the right message about him."

Mike slightly cringed. He needed to stop blabbering.

Connie scowled, "Do I really need to consider _all _of that, just to buy a _tie_?" she questioned, now looking slightly overwhelmed, "I just never realized..."

As she continued viewing the ties, all Mike could think about was_, She's still here_. S_he didn't go running out the double doors, arms flailing in fright._

"What type of profession or business is your boss in?" Mike inquired, "that's something to consider in your tie selection."

"Actually, he's just been promoted," Connie said, almost absentmindedly as continued to scour through the ties, "he's now the newly appointed District Attorney of New York City and...oh, wait.." she reached over for a particular tie, "I think I see a tie that I like!"

She had been so absorbed with the tie in her hand that she hadn't noticed Mike's reaction; that his eyes had widened as he took a deep intake of breath.

_Her boss is Jack McCoy...t_he _man Mike will be interviewing with tomorrow!_

He tried to calm his senses. Connie held up the tie she had retrieved for Mike to see, "This one looks professional. What do you think?"

_It was the cobalt blue foulard tie, the one that he had chosen for himself._

She was patiently waiting for his opinion. For once he was glad his many years as an attorney helped in masking his true feelings. And as far as her coincidently picking out the same tie he desired, let her have it, he determined, if it meant spending a little more time with her right now.

"Hmmm..." Mike pretended he was considering it, "Conservative, polished, yet conveying confidence... " when Mike looked at Connie, his entire face had brightened, "...I do believe your boss will think you have excellent taste."

Connie had a satisfied look on her face as she gave the tie a second look over, "Oh, with such a resounding endorsement...I'll take it!" she looked gratefully back to Mike, "Thank you! You've been such a help!"

He smiled modestly back at her, "Sure. Anytime."

Their casual gaze suddenly turned serious as they found they could not look away and suddenly the tension between them heightened.

Connie felt a warmth spreading throughout her body and her mind seemed blank . There was just something about him that unnerved her, but ...in a good way.

Mike knew he was attracted to her, and by the way she was looking back, he couldn't help wondering if she found him attractive, too.

What the hell was he thinking?

She worked in the DA's office and there was a possibility he may become her boss in the near future. A supervisor must always keep his professional distance. He needed to tell her who he was. Mike cleared his throat.

In the meantime, Connie looked down at her watch.

"Oh, my lunch hour is almost up," she announced, "... do you want to ring me up?"

_She wanted him to call her_?

All manner of telling her the truth was forgotten.

There was hope in Mike's eyes, "Ring ...you up?"

She held up the item she wanted to purchase, "Yes, the tie? Can you ring it up for me?"

_Oh,_ he ruefully reminded himself, _he was supposed to be the tie clerk._ She wanted him to ring up the_ merchandise._

"Yes, the tie...ring up _the tie._" he regretfully knew this would not go any further as he shook his head, "No, sorry, no...but you can just go to the counter over at there," Mike gestured over to the far corner wall.

"Of course," Connie smiled gratefully. With tie in hand she proceeded to walk away while Mike turned back to finish straightening the ties.

What he didn't notice was that Connie had stopped in mid-stride towards the cash register, as if she had an afterthought.

_I can't believe I'm thinking what I'm thinking_, she thought.

Courageously turning around again, she approached Mike who was still busily arranging the ties.

_Here goes_, she thought as she hesitantly stood in front of him once more. Mike felt her presence and slowly turned to face her, privately ecstatic to be spending a few more seconds with her.

"Yes?" he inquired, his heart skipping a beat.

Connie took a deep breath.

"...Excuse me, " she gave a nervous smile, "_again_..."

"Do you need some more of my tie expertise?" Mike asked while he internally kicked himself. Really? _Tie expertise?_

Her lips curled into a slight smile, "In a sense, yes...I was just wondering...will you be here in this department tomorrow?" the room suddenly felt so warm as she felt a telltale blush, "...just...in case I need an opinion about another tie..." her voice trailed off.

_I'm so obvious_, Connie thought. But...she just had to know if she could see him again. As she waited for the answer, she mentally crossed her fingers at the same time.

Mike felt elated at the implication. Then reality hit and his hopes took a steep nosedive. This wasn't a movie where the lowly sales associate gets together with the lovely shopper at the end and then lives happily ever after.

Hell, he wasn't even a sales associate to begin with.

"Sadly, no, I won't be here tomorrow." Mike responded, his expression impassive, but in a low voice, he added, "however, I don't doubt that we will meet again."

Embarrassment flooded Connie's mind at the thought that she had read him wrong. He was only showing interest because he wanted to make a sale.

"Oh!...well...I understand...I ...should be going; lunchtime being so short and all..."

Connie couldn't help thinking that with each minute she stayed, the sales associate seemed to become even more attractive. She really needed to get her head examined.

"Yes, you wouldn't want to be late for work," Mike said causally before adding, "..it was very nice meeting you, though."

Connie felt a letdown; she would never see him again.

"Yes, of course,..." she looked slightly puzzled, "...it really was nice...um, _meeting_ you," and she turned quickly and sauntered over to the counter, her heels making a distinctive clanking sound.

Mike could not help but watch her the entire way.

If he actually had been a sales associate, he would be running after her this very minute to tell her he would be at this very same spot tomorrow and the next day after that and the next day after that, if she had any intentions on coming back. Then he shook his head.

_What is WRONG with me?,_ he asked himself.

And sadly he knew _she_ would be asking that very same question about him tomorrow when he will be introduced as EADA candidate Mike Cutter.

.

.

_(A/N: Soooo glad to be back!)_

_(A special happy birthday to SilverChef!)_

_(Also, thanks for all the encouragement to get me to post: Diane, Sally, For the Defense, MoonlitShadows, Happy, and TuxedoCat)_

_Please review_


	2. Chapter 2

The Official Meet-up

Chapter 2

Early morning, Connie sat at her desk in her office. Instead of her mind geared towards work as usual, it had drifted to frivolous musings. For some reason, she could not get the image of that Macy's sales associate out of her head. There was just something so...memorable about him.

He was attractive, yes, but it was more than that. To Connie, it wasn't really about him _per se_, as it was about how she _felt _when she was around him. The feeling was...pleasant and comforting; like her heart had found a soft place to land. She mentally shook her head immediately following that thought.

She had to stop reading those romance novels so late at night!

She knew Jack would want to see her in a little while. Looking up at the clock on the wall, she knew in about an hour's time, she would be meeting the new EADA face-to-face.

.

.

Newly appointed District Attorney Jack McCoy sat behind the desk, reading the resume in front of him, as candidate Mike Cutter patiently waited for any other questions Jack might have for him. The interview was winding down, almost an hour long at this point.

"Overall, your previous work is most impressive," Jack noted, as he put Mike's resume down, " and, of course, you come highly recommended by Arthur Branch."

From everything Jack has seen and read, he believed he was looking across the desk at his new EADA.

Mike nodded, "I appreciate the opportunity of interviewing for this position, Jack. I had previously believed that the DA's office rarely hires an EADA from the outside."

"Humph!" Jacks seemed to brush that thought aside, "That idea of hiring someone internally was something Adam Schiff had started, but I'm not him. We need someone from the outside who could bring in new ideas, breathe a little life and fire in here."

"I am certainly qualified to do that," Mike said confidently.

"Good, because, ironically, its people like us who help keep the rest of the world sane, " Jack declared.

Mike smiled, liking Jack immediately, "I should warn you, though, I've been known to be unconventional at times."

His last statement sealed the deal for Jack.

"You sound better and better!" Jack acknowledged as he stood,,"...and that's why I'd like to offer you the position as my new Executive Assistant District Attorney!"

Mike's face lit at the job offer, as he, too, rose from his seat. "and I gladly accept!"

As they shook hands Mike added, "I appreciate the opportunity, Jack, and I will certainly do my best to bring justice to the forefront!"

"I actually need more than your best, Mike," Jack said, "don't make me regret my decision."

"You won't," promised Mike.

He then noted how Jack anxiously looked over at his office door and peered at his watch.

"Jack, I'm not keeping you from your next appointment, am I?" Mike inquired.

"Not at all," Jack assured him, "It's just I'm expecting Connie Rubirosa here any second. I'm sure you are anxious to meet your new ADA."

_Connie Rubirosa_. So _that_ was her name. He liked the sound of it; almost melodious sounding. But then again, what _didn't_ he like about her? Yet he dreaded their actual meet-up. He was not sure he was ready for her reaction.

"Perhaps it might be best if I meet her at a different time..." Mike's mind was racing at what reason he could give Jack to end this meeting quickly so he could quietly slip out without being seen.

Jack's eyebrows flew up.

"That certainly is _not_ the response I expected from a newly appointed Executive Assistant District Attorney!" Jack exclaimed, viewing him intently, "Is there a reason for you're not wanting to meet Ms. Rubirosa?"

"It's not that I _don't _want to meet her," Mike assured him, "it's just that you look very busy today...and if I'm to be ready for work next week, there's a lot I _also_ need to get done..."

"Nonsense!" Jack insisted.

He was interrupted by the knock on the door.

"Good, she's here!" Jack exclaimed.

The door opened slightly and Connie stuck her head in, ""Jack, you wanted to see me?" she asked.

Mike swallowed hard.

"Yes, yes, come in, Connie," encouraged Jack, waving her in, "I want you to meet our new EADA, Michael Cutter..."

Connie strode in the room.

When Mike saw her again, a jolt passed through him. She was even lovelier than he remembered from the other day, but he knew her reaction to _him_ would not be so positive.

And he was right.

As she approached him, Connie flashed an obligatory smile. That, however, completely disappeared as recognition set in when she viewed the familiar blue eyes she had been daydreaming about earlier.

"_You!_" she declared in an accusing voice.

Mike had been expecting such a reaction.

"I rarely answer to the name _you._ So , please, call me Mike," he stated calmly, as his eyes silently shifted over to Jack, indicating to her that they were not the only two in the room, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Connie."

But she had always prided herself on being genuine.

"I'd prefer to be known as _Miss Rubirosa, _if you don't mind, Mr. Cutter_._"

Jack furrowed his brow.

"Did I miss something?" he inquired, "Had you two met earlier?"

"You might say that," she explained, "although when I met him, " she pointedly looked at Mike, "_he_ wasn't exactly in the _legal_ profession yet."

Jack's eyebrows lifted, "Oh? So you two met a while back then? And when was that?" he inquired.

"Yesterday," responded Mike dryly.

Jack looked utterly befuddled.

"_Yesterday!?_" repeated Jack, incredulously, "How is it that you weren't in the legal profession _yesterday, _Mike?"

"It's a long story, Jack."

"No it isn't." disagreed Connie, her eyes flashing.

Jack looked from one to the other.

"I get what's happening here," Jack surmised to Connie, "when he says '_day' , _you say '_night'_...Not the ideal situation for a working relationship," he then asked her point blank, "Connie, there isn't going to be a problem working alongside Mike, is there?"

She could feel two pairs of eyes watching her. Above all else, she was professional.

"No, of course not, Jack," she responded stiffly, her head held high.

"That's good to hear because, believe me, I don't have time to make sure everyone plays nice on the playground!" he snapped.

"Oh, don't worry, Jack, we'll get along just fine," Mike assured him.

"It'll...be fine," Connie's lips barely moved as she forced out her words.

"Then I'll announce to you that Mike will officially start work on Monday," Jack told her, as an idea entered his mind, "and as his associate, Connie, why don't you show our new Executive Assistant District Attorney around the office?"

Connie reluctantly looked over at Mike.

Well, there was nothing she could do about what had already occurred, but she would be sure to keep her distance from him.

"I'll be _happy _to show Mr. Cutter around," Connie declared, although her smile did not reach her eyes, and her tone was stilted, "Please, follow me."

.

.

She had given him a quick tour of the office, introduced him to some of the people he would be interacting with. They finally ended up in her office.

"And this is my office," she stated, "as you can see, it is directly across from yours. So if you'll excuse me, I have some work I need to get done."

Then she sat at her desk and began to straighten her desk, as if to dismiss him. Instead he took the visitors seat, opposite hers.

"Thank you for the tour," he stated gratefully.

She continued shuffling her papers, refusing to look his way.

"Not at all, Mr. Cutter," Connie stated formally.

"Didn't I tell you to call me Mike?" he reminded her.

Still fussing with the files, she paused for a second.

"Yes, you did, _Mr. Cutter,"_ she stated as she once again continued reorganizing her desk.

Mike almost cracked a smile. She seemed so adorable when mad, but he knew better than to tease her about it.

They were not off to a good start.

He leaned in, "Look, Miss Rubirosa, about that _tie_ incident in Macy's..."

He stopped when she slammed the stack of papers she had in her hands and turned to look directly at him.

"Did you have fun humiliating me?" her tone had turned sharp, her eyes never leaving his.

"I..." Mike fumbled, "that's..._not_...how it went..."

The blues of his eyes were filled with sincerity. For just a second her strong resolve melted a bit and she was again taken in by his attractiveness. But then she recalled her humiliation, and in front of Jack, no less!

So maybe his humbleness wasn't authentic. After all, if Jack hired him, he must be a very good prosecutor. She had been around lawyers enough to know they make some of the best actors on the planet.

"That is _exactly_ how it went!" she said insistently, "you impersonated a sales associate for some cheap thrill at my expense!"

Once Connie got that out her system, she seemed to have calmed down a bit. After all, this...this narcissistic person across from her would be her future boss.

"No, I...didn't know who you were...at first..." Mike began, sounding defensive.

How could he explain his attraction to her? Yesterday in that department store, he could _swear_ they had shared a 'moment' between them. But now, as her newly appointed boss, admitting that would seem inappropriate.

"But you _eventually_ found out I was from the DA's office," she pointed out, "I _told_ you I was buying a tie for the new DA!"

"I know I was wrong; I should have identified myself," Mike admitted, "but in my defense, I didn't actually _say_ I was a sales associate, you just _assumed_ it. But if you want me to-"

_Knock! Knock!_

They were interrupted by a loud knock on Connie's office door. Her door was already opened, but the female standing at the doorway was doing it out of courtesy.

Both Mike and Connie turned to view the new visitor.

"Is this a bad time?" the pleasant-looking woman asked.

"Jenny," Connie greeted, relieved that someone had broken into their conversation, "No, you're not interrupting anything at all...please come in."

Jenny Lupo walked in. She was the sister -in-law of Cyrus Lupo, a new detective at the 2-7. Mike stood as introductions were made and he gallantly gave up his seat so Jenny could sit down. Jenny first looked over at Connie before giving a nervous glance up at Mike.

"So you're the new Executive Assistant DA?" she inquired to Mike.

"Yes, I am," Mike nodded.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Connie suddenly realized that she had never even congratulated Mike. Too late now. Not that she wanted to, anyway. Besides, he was probably too busy internally smirking over what happened yesterday to even notice.

Connie couldn't imagine why Jenny was here. The two of them were not what was considered friends; in fact, they were barely acquaintances, having only met twice.

"Is there something special you needed to see me about?" Connie asked Jenny, still very aware of Mike's presence in the room.

"Yeah, there is..." Jenny stated, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Mike thought it would be a good time to make his exit.

"Uh, I see you two ladies would like to sit and visit, so if you will excuse me, I think I'll start getting my office in order..."

Connie surprisingly felt a letdown that he was leaving, but her face remained impassive as she watched him leave.

Until Jenny called him back.

"No, wait..._please_!" Jenny's tone was almost pleading as Mike halted his steps, "It's just...if you're the new prosecutor under Jack McCoy, perhaps you, along with Connie, might be able to help me too..."

Connie looked concerned.

"Jenny, are you in trouble?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Jenny said, "it's more like...I'm at a loss," she looked at Connie and then Mike, "and could really use some advice..."

Her distraught manner made Connie place a comforting hand over Jenny's.

"Go on," she stated with a comforting voice, "we're _both_ listening."

Mike brought another chair over and sat down, too.

Jenny relaxed a little.

"It's just..." she took a deep breath in and then decided she should just blurt it out.

"_How does one go about preventing a murder from being committed?"_

.

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_(A/N: Thank you everyone for all your kind reviews, including the 'Guests'. It's really great being back!)_

_Please review_


	3. Chapter 3

The Case

Chapter 3

Mike was sitting alongside Connie and a distraught Jenny Lupo.

Connie looked stunned, but intrigued, "You have knowledge that a murder is about to take place?"

"I-I think so," Jenny responded, "and I want to know if there's any way I can stop it from happening."

Connie was at a loss so she looked over at Mike.

Fortunately, he had a response.

"Although, this is not really my field of expertise," began Mike, very solemnly, " I believe there are three ways to prevent a murder."

Jenny nodded, pleased that she getting taken seriously, "Go on, I'm listening."

Mike held up his hand and checked off the ways on his fingers, "_One_, you remove the victim from the danger zone."

"Not possible, " Jenny stated.

"_Two_," Mike continued, "you removed the murderer from the place where he can have contact with the victim."

"That is _possible,_ but not _probable_," she answered.

"And finally," Mike now held up three fingers, " the _third_ one is the most easy and practical one."

Jenny tilted her head, curious, "Which is what?"

Connie piped in knowing exactly what Mike was going to say, "You go to the police."

Mike nodded, letting Jenny know that he was going to say exactly that.

"The police? I can't do THAT!" Jenny insisted as she looked miserable, "Cyrus _works_ at the precinct! Connie, you know as well as I do that he will get wind of this no matter who I talk with over there! Then he'll insist I quit and I can't afford to! How often does a woman with kids but no college experience get a well-paying job like this?"

"We're talking about your safety here," Connie said.

"I'm not scared for my safety, I just want to keep someone else safe," her eyes were pleading with Connie, "that's why I came to you," Jenny then gestured her head over to Mike, "...and I can trust him, can't I?"

Connie gave a guarded glance at Mike, although she was talking to Jenny.

"I believe_ you _can trust him," Connie purposely had emphasized the word '_you_', making it plain that it didn't mean _she _could trust him. Mike didn't know why, but he found it a little endearing coming from Connie and had to fight to hide the half-smile.

"At this point, I don't know who else I can trust. Please help me!" Jenny sounded desperate, "Tell me what to do without having the police involved!"

"Perhaps, Ms. Lupo, you need to start at the beginning," Mike proposed.

Jenny sighed, "Yes, I suppose you do need to know everything."

She then went on to explain how she worked as a at-home night caretaker for the distinguished Remington family. They ran a shipping empire. Wesley Wright, the husband, had married into this wealthy and powerful family.

In other words, tt was the old story of _an impoverished nobody (Wesley Wright) marrying a wealthy somebody (The Remingtons_.)

The wife, Elizabeth Remington Wright had been hurt in a terrible automobile accident last year, which resulted in permanent injury to the spine. She would never walk again, which was the reason why Jenny had been hired, to help care for her.

"So what you're saying, Jenny," Connie stated, "is that you think this Wesley Wright is out to murder his wealthy wife?"

Jenny nodded, "Yes, I know for a fact that Wesley is in love with another woman."

"Are you referring to _yourself_ as the other woman?" Mike pointedly asked, as Jenny whipped her head over to him.

"Certainly not!" she looked offended, "I'm already married! Besides, I don't think Wesley Wright even _likes_ me, though his wife did. No, his bimbo girlfriend went by the name of Marcy...Marcy Valentine, I think."

"Still," said Mike, "even a bad marriage doesn't necessarily end in a murder. What made you suspicious of Wesley Wright possibly attempting to murder his wife?"

Jenny opened her purse, "Mr. Wright offered me five thousand dollars if I would give his wife this medicine here."

Mike and Connie looked at the four white pills in the plastic bottle that she showed them.

Connie gave a quizzical look, "What did he say these pills were?"

"He didn't."

Mike then asked, "Did he give you a reason why he wanted you to give it to his wife?"

"He claimed the doctor told him this medicine here would do her some good," Jenny claimed, before leaning in and saying in a low voice, "but _I think these pills are poisonous!"_

"Look, Mrs. Lupo, " Mike seemed skeptical, " all of what you're saying doesn't make sense. If Wright wanted his wife out of the way, he could have just divorced her! It would be so much cleaner that way...with no dead bodies to pick up after, either."

"And lose the potential millions he could inherit?" Jenny said, "He would never give up his rich lifestyle; you just don't know him like I do..." her face suddenly seem to lose some of its coloring, "I'm scared...especially for Mrs. Wright...and...and I don't like being thrown in the middle of this! I just don't know want to do!"

Connie held out her opened hand.

"Give me the bottle," she suggested decisively as Jenny handed it to her. The plastic bottle contained the four tablets about the size of a standard five-grain aspirin.

"I was to give her all four at bedtime," Jenny explained, "and then Mr. Wright would pay me the money after the _deed _was completed." She made air-quotation marks with her fingers at the word _deed._

"How would he know if you gave it to her or not?" Connie asked.

Jenny shrugged, "He said he trusted me...but I think he figured if I had given it to Elizabeth, then she'd be dead by now. Mr. Wright was smart. Since I was the one who administered it to her, that would be enough to keep me quiet as well."

"Why didn't _he_ just give the pills to her?" Mike asked the logical question.

"They are not on good terms now," Jenny explained, "He can't go in her room to visit her, she won't allow it. Elizabeth _hates_ the sight of him. She gets upset, almost hysterical every time she sees his face, so the doctor forbid Mr. Wright in the room."

Mike looked unsure, not wanting to get involved, despite it sounding intriguing, "Who else works there in the house?"

"Only the fulltime housekeeper," Jenny stated, "she watches Elizabeth Wright in the daytime and I come in at night."

"Does Wesley Wright get along with her, the housekeeper?" Mike asked.

"Irene? Oh yes," Jenny sounded certain, "she's been with the family forever. She is very devoted to the Wrights, especially to Mr. Wright."

"So why didn't he ask _her_ to give the pills since she is a trusted family employee?"

Jenny shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe he offered the money to her and she turned him down. All I know is that he asked _me_ to do the deed and I don't know what to do!"

Mike looked down on the floor in order to think. This was so totally out of his jurisdiction.

"I'm not sure if there is much we can do for you, since legally, no crime has been committed," he truthfully spoke out.

Jenny had a distressed look in her eyes.

"But...it's so _obvious_ that Mr. Wright is up to no good! I'm trying to stop a murder from being committed! _Can't you two see that? I_ really need your help!_"_

Connie really wanted to help out Jenny. She could see that although the story was a little crazy, Jenny Lupo actually believed she was involved in a murder-for-hire plot.

"I think I might be able to help," announced Connie, as she took out a blank sheet of paper.

"Really?" Jenny looked hopeful as Connie nodded.

"Now hold on there, Con-, Miss Rubirosa-" Mike began.

But Connie had already proceeded to dump all four of the tablets on the paper. As far as they could determine, all four pills were identical. Then opening her desk drawer, she got out an envelope, put one of the pills in it and sealed it with her name.

"I can take this one pill to the lab and have it analyzed, "Connie suggested.

Jenny's expression immediately brightened, "Oh Connie, thank you!"

Mike looked at Connie, wondering how she could overstep him to do this, "Do you really think we should look into this?"

Connie looked straight at him, "You won't officially begin working until Monday, so in theory, I am not working for you. If you do not want to be involved with this, that's fine by me. I can certainly find out what these pills are _without_ your help."

They seem to be silently assessing one another.

"Sooo," Jenny looked hesitantly at one and then the other, "In the meantime, what should I tell Mr. Wright? He told me to give the pills to his wife tonight."

"Tell him,' Connie plotted, "that Mrs. Wright has been very lucid these past two nights and so, as her caretaker, you saw no need to give her the medication. It'll only take maybe two days for the pill to be analyzed and we will have the results."

Connie's suggestion sounded ideal and Jenny looked satisfied.

She stood, "Thank you again, Connie, Mr. Cutter!" Then a worried look crossed her face again, "You promise not to mention this to the police or Cyrus, right?"

"Maybe," Mike stated.

"We won't unless it becomes absolutely necessary," Connie assured her, overriding Mike.

He looked over at Connie.

Mike had a feeling his new associate had a mind of her own.

.

"Do you always do that?" Mike asked, after Jenny Lupo had left.

"Do what?" Connie wanted to know.

"Overstep your boundaries," Mike said, "because what had just occurred with Jenny Lupo was an excellent example of that."

"This _overstepping of boundaries_ is merely me helping out a friend," she explained, "it's not as if we are working together on a case. I'm just making sure this Wesley Wright is on the up and up, and if you don't want to get involved, that's fine..." and then because Connie knew Mike _would_ be her future boss, she added professionally, , "of course, Mr. Cutter, rest assure that when Monday rolls around, you will be my boss and I understand my responsibilities to you as my new boss."

She certainly covered everything that needed to be said. Mike had to give her credit for that. He just wished they had started on better terms. Instead, she preferred to remain distant. Well, as they say, two can play at that game.

"I didn't say I_ wasn't_ going to get involved, _Miss _Rubirosa, " Mike stated respectfully, "but there is something very strange about this case. A man wants to murder his wife, so he asks a virtual _stranger _to poison her with pills instead of asking the trusted housekeeper? I don't like it."

"People don't like a lot of things, but that doesn't mean they should avoid it," Connie reasoned, "A perfect example would be taxes. We don't_ like_ them, but we can't _avoid_ them."

"Oh, I don't know," Mike kept a straight face, "I actually _love_ taxes!"

_Smart mouth_, Connie thought, yet she had to fight the slight smile that came to her lips.

Then she got back down to business as she held up the white envelope containing the medicine "Aren't you curious as to what kind of a pill this is?"

Mike couldn't deny it. Of course he was. He just didn't know how he was going to explain this to Jack. He told Jack he was unconventional, but to prove it already four days _before_ he would even start working?

"We'll investigate this...but only until Monday ," Mike decided.

Connie gave him her first real smile.

"Until Monday," she readily agreed.

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	4. Chapter 4

The confrontation

Chapter 4

Lieutenant Anita Van Buren was in her office early. She was looking out her office window at the almost emptied precinct. _This place sure could use some fixing-up_, she thought to herself. The green paint of the 2-7 was cracked and peeling, many of the blinds were broken, the light fixtures were rusting, and the machines were archaic.

But then, she mused, how many great detectives have passed through these old wooden doors? Her mind conjured up images of Logan, Rey, Ed, Joe, Nina, Cyrus, Kevin and ...Lennie, oh, Lennie, Anita shook her head, recalling a few of the snide remarks from her favorite detective. There will never be anyone like Lennie.

She again looked around the crumbling building. No, it's best the 2-7 remained untouched as it is, she determined, _if only for the memories._

"Hello, Lieutenant?"

Mike stood at the doorway as Anita looked over in his direction.

"Yes?" Anita questioned, surprised that someone was here so early to see her, "May I help you?"

He walked further in, "I'm Michael Cutter," Mike introduced himself as they shook hands.

_Ah, the new EADA, _Anita thought.

She assessed the younger man who stood in front of her. Hmmm...Definitely professional looking with a...maverick demeanor. She could sense these driven, stubborn types a mile away. Anita recalled how she had that same instant reaction the first day she came face to face with Jack McCoy.

"Yes, Mr. Cutter, from the DA's office, " Anita knew exactly who he was, "I'm Lieutenant Van Buren," she gestured to the empty seat across her desk, "Do sit, counsellor. And tell me, what can I do for you?"

"I'm up against one of the strangest problems I've ever encountered," Mike remarked, once he sat.

"Oh?" Anita lifted a questioning brow, "Already, Mr. Cutter? And you figure if it's _strange_, it's best to come here to my office? Should I be flattered?"

Mike gave a slight smile. He could tell dealing with Anita Van Buren would never be dull.

"I never visit anyone merely to flatter them, Lieutenant, " Mike stated respectfully, "I just figured you might be interested in this scenario. Seems Miss Rubirosa and I were asked to help prevent a murder."

Anita had seen it all, heard it all. At least that's what she thought, until now.

"You don't say, Mr. Cutter? I didn't realize the DA's office was extending its circle of responsibilities to include murder prevention. Please continue."

Mike explained to her the visit from Jenny Lupo, Cyrus' sister-in-law. At the end of the story he informed her that the conversation was to be kept between themselves, with no mention to any of her detectives.

"I see." Anita said in her usual calm way, once she heard the entire story, "And what do you expect _me_ to do with this knowledge?"

Mike handed Anita the envelope containing the pill he had taken from Connie's desk.

"We need to find out the chemical make- up of this pill ASAP," he said, "it might possibly turn out to be cyanide, arsenic, or some other deadly drug."

Anita stared at the envelope, "So what you want me to do is to use my influence in the crime lab to find out the contents of this pill and then inform you as to the results immediately because, obviously, I have nothing better to do here with my time...am I _reading _you right, Mr. Cutter?"

"I figure the lab people would hop to it if the request came from you, Lieutenant," Mike agreed, "and it sure would be nice to _prevent_ a murder instead of always having to deal with the aftereffects of it."

He had a point there.

Anita accepted the envelope and put it down on her desk.

"I'm intrigued," Anita admitted, "but I'm betting that is not the _only_ reason you've dropped by with this envelope."

_It may be harder to pull the wool over her eyes than I thought_, Mike concluded.

But he would try anyway.

"Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant?" Mike asked innocently.

Anita sighed. So it was going to be like that.

"A woman comes to you with a ridiculous story about a possible murder," began Anita slowly, "She tells you and ADA Rubirosa her cockamamie theory. If you don't take it seriously and the hypothetical victim is found murdered, the woman is off the hook because she had already warned you that it will happen. _If_, however, you've consulted with the police department _after _the woman's visit with you but _before_ the actual murder takes place, then we, the police, take the blame instead of the DA's office. So, in a nutshelll you expect the police to take the heat. Did I get that just about right, Mr. Cutter?"

He was right.

She was brilliant.

Mike would not deny it, "I guess that is what's called passing the buck."

Anita returned a knowing look to him, "You really need to call it what it is: _the one left holding the bag_."

He nodded with a slight smile.

_"Touche,_" Mike stated with new respect, "I see we have an understanding."

_This new EADA should be interesting to deal with, _Anita determined.

"Yes, we do, Mr. Cutter."

.

.

Half an hour later, Mike was back at the DA's office.

"You did _what_?" Connie looked accusingly at Mike. He had gone to her office and told her of his visit with the Lieutenant, "Didn't Jenny Lupo ask us NOT to go to the police?"

"This isn't _any_ police officer," Mike stated, "I consulted with a ranked officer. I think it's important that in my capacity as a supervisor that I keep the head of detectives informed about something in case I need their help in the future. And Lieutenant Van Buren promised not to inform the other detectives of our conversation."

But by this time, Connie was not amendable to listening to his reasoning. Not when he took action without consulting her.

"Mike, I can't believe you took the envelope without asking me!" Connie stated adamantly.

"I'm actually glad I did," Mike countered, his eyes steadily watching her.

"And why is that?" she challenged, still annoyed.

"...because it got you to call me _Mike_!"

"...What_?"_ Connie was caught off guard, but she quickly recovered, "I assure you, I won't make that mistake in the future!"

"I wouldn't say you calling me _Mike_ a mistake," he jested, "I'd call it more a happy accident."

And he could tell from the way her face had softened that the ice was slowly melting.

"...Nevertheless," she warned him, "don't _ever_ take anything from my desk without discussing it with me first!" she looked flustered.

"Okay ,maybe I was wrong to act on my own without consulting you first," Mike sounded defensive, "but isn't it the end results that counts? We'll be getting back the lab results immediately!"

"You do realize that my legs are not broken and I could have _hand-carried_ the envelope with the pill to the lab and gotten the same results?"

"Okay, so next time I'll be sure to check to see if you have a _cast_ on your leg before I do something," he managed to keep a straight face. It took all of Connie's willpower not the break her solemn face.

"See that you do, Mr. Cutter!"

He heaved out a frustrated sigh.

The ice had stopped melting and was back in the freezer.

"So it's back to being called _Mr. Cutter_ again."

"You _are_ my supervisor," Connie said evenly.

"Not until Monday," he pointed out.

When he first met Connie at Macy's, he had thought her to be a beautiful, intelligent woman with a warm heart. But perhaps he had misjudged her. So far, she's been shown to be a stubborn, overbearing assistant. But no matter what he thought of her, she managed to make his heart give an extra thump just by entering the room.

Except now, she seemed to be more interested in giving him a thump on his head, he thought. Which, actually, was for the better. They would never get on a personal level. After all, as her supervisor, he would never cross that line into something more personal. Never.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked slightly back and forth.

"I'll be sure to consult you next time, Miss Rubirosa," he contritely said, "now, if you'll excuse me, I have an office that needs organizing."

Connie watched his backside as he headed out the door. She _had_ been rather hard on him; it was so unlike her. But something about him always brought out...a different side of her. Why were her emotions always so raw in his presence? And even more confusing, why did she feel disappointment to see him leave?.

"Mr. Cutter," she called out his name, "uh...Mike?"

He turned quickly back around, "Yes?"

What now? She really didn't have anything to say to him.

She swallowed hard, "Welcome to the DA's office."

Mike stood watching her for a second, wishing he could understand her better.

As his heart gave a little thump.

"Thanks," Mike responded, and then he was gone.

.

.

An hour later, Connie was at the coffeeshop around the corner from the DA's office.

"So you'll help me, right?" Jenny was sitting across from Connie in one of the booths, "I mean, I can't afford to quit. If I leave my employment, that Wright guy has the resources to hunt me down."

"Yes, I will," Connie said, her mind somewhat distracted.

She bit her lip, thinking how frustrated Mike got her. Connie was always known to be someone who got along with everyone in the office. Yet, just seeing him, with those intense blue eyes, and boyishly layered hair and that intense energy and...

"...and then I fell into a vat of jello..." Jenny was saying.

"...that's nice," Connie's mind was still drifting when Jenny's words of f_alling into a vat of jello_ finally sunk in, "Whaat?...jello?"

Jenny snorted, "Just testing you to see if you were listening. You've got something else on your mind?"

"No, not really."

But she answered too quickly.

"Will Mr. Cutter be working with us, too?" Jenny probed and noticed a glimmer of interest showing in Connie's eyes.

"I'm not sure; I think so."

Connie tried to casually sip her coffee, but the mug was shaking in her hand.

It was another sign for Jenny that her hunch was right.

Mike Cutter had an effect on Connie.

"He seems very nice and helpful," Jenny gave Connie a sideways glance before she added, "...and he's rather attractive, too."

Connie's face shot up, "Really? You think he's attractive? I...hadn't notice," she looked as though she was giving it some thought, "Hmmm... I _guess_ he's alright_._ Rather infuriating, though, if you ask me."

She tried to sound nonchalant, but she couldn't even look Jenny in the face.

And Jenny noticed that, too, "Oh-kay."

"O-_kay_?" Connie repeated. She could feel herself blushing, "What is _that_ suppose to mean?"

"I'm agreeing with you," Jenny simply said, "He's infuriating."

"Yes, he is..." Connie said, and then as an afterthought she said, "but maybe not _all_ the time..."

Jenny smiled.

It was so obvious. It was written all over Connie's face.

She had it _bad_ for her boss, Mike Cutter.

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	5. Chapter 5

The Accusation

Chapter 5

From across the way, Jack scowled at his new hire as they stood face to face.

Mike had just informed him about Jenny Lupo and how she was trying to prevent a murder from happening.

"You haven't even started with us and already you're telling me you've taken on a case without consulting me?" Jack sounded perturbed, "What were you thinking, Mike?"

"It's not a case, at least not now," Mike told him, "Jenny Lupo needed our help and being that she's the sister-in-law of Detective Lupo-"

"-whom you've never met, need I remind you!" Jack interrupted, "so don't even pretend that that was a contributing factor in your decision! I don't know how you did it at your previous job, but here, we don't do whatever suits our pleasure!"

When Mike was silent, Jack then added, "and by the way, what was all that coldness between you and Connie yesterday?"

Mike looked innocent, "coldness?"

"You know _exactly_ what I mean!" Jack insisted, "I've had the pleasure of working with Connie for a while now, and she's always gotten along famously with everyone else...so what did _you_ ever do to her?"

"If you must know," Mike said evenly, "I bumped into her at a department store before my interview and we had...a little misunderstanding."

"A _little_ misunderstanding?" Jack looked questionably at Mike, "it certainly seemed more that that! By her coldness, I think it was more like The Titanic hitting an iceberg!"

"Yeah, well..." said Mike, his head went back and forth.

"Connie is one of the most level-headed persons I've ever known," Jack told him, "Unlike _others _I know, like the one I may have recently hired..."

"_Still,"_ Mike ignored Jack's insinuation, "the situation between Connie and me is really nothing that I can't handle..."

Jack thinned his lips.

Mike was coming off presumptuous and overconfident.

It was like looking in a mirror.

The obvious animosity between Mike and Connie at their initial meeting reminded Jack of a time when he met Claire and had to work with her for the first time. Their methods on how to prosecute cases differed dramatically. Initially he resented her brashness and stubbornness until he realized that she had the ability to fill in any weaknesses he had as a prosecuting attorney. And as a person, as well.

Maybe that is what will happen here. He'll have to keep a close watch between those two.

"So you're saying you think you can handle the Jenny Lupo situation _and_ your new ADA?" Jack looked doubtful.

Mike stood taller, "I know I can."

"Make that _one_ out of two," Jack advised him, "because if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that a woman can _never_ be handled!"

.

.

It was later in the morning and Mike was alone in his new office. He had just finished clearing out the old files and his desk was near emptied of the former owner's possessions. In a few days, this will be his permanent office, he thought , looking about with satisfaction.

His office was already beginning to reflect more himself all his personal mementos. Mike looked at his four baseballs he had all lined up on his desk. Reminiscently , he picked up one of his favorites, the blue baseball, which had "City of New York Police Department" stamped on it, along with NYPD printed in white. Grasping the baseball tightly in his closed hand, he smiled at some of his memories of his favorite baseball moments.

When Connie walked into his office, she noted his preoccupation and almost hated to disturb him. Almost.

"Mr. Cutter," Connie stated formally.

So they're starting from square number one again.

He quickly looked up.

"Miss Rubirosa," Mike responded, but somehow his tone sounded more playful.

She could see that the office already a different vibe to it. Jack had filled this office with wall to wall books, whereas Mike 's take on the room appeared to be slightly more...sentimental. She watched as Mike reverently placed the baseball back on his desk alongside the other baseballs. She also noted a baseball bat leaning against a corner. So he's a baseball fan, Connie thought, and then wondered why she should even care.

Mike leaned back in his chair, and looked directly at her, making her catch her breath. His blue eyes were clear and bright.

"Please have a seat, Miss Rubirosa, " Mike greeted, pleased that she came into his office of her own volition without him having to cajole or blackmail her. When Connie sat, Mike kept up the tone of formality, "To what do I owe this visit so early in the morning?"

"I've been mulling around some things in my mind last night," Connie seemed hesitant, "and I want to call a truce."

Of course, she left out the part that she had a _very_ restless night.

Mike seemed surprised, "Did you say a truce? I didn't realize we were in battle-mode. However, I would be willing to put my armor aside to listen to what you have to say."

But before she could respond, the phone rang.

Mike was bothered by the ill-timed phone call. He considered ignoring the call.

It was on its second ring now.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Connie asked.

"No, please continue yelling over the incessant ringing," Mike jested, "it may will help clear your lungs."

Connie actually laughed.

He liked the sound of her laughter.

"It could be the lab results," Connie suggested.

_At least she didn't seem mad about that,_ Mike thought with relief.

"It could be...maybe I _should_ get that..." he said as he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

"This is Cutter" she heard him say, "...yes, Miss Rubirosa is here with me..." he stated, looking over at her.

Connie looked away, not understanding why she felt hot and bothered every time Mike looked directly at her. His statement was followed by an agitated female's voice quickly talking on the other end. Connie recognized the voice as belonging to Jenny Lupo.

_"_Hold on, Ms. Lupo, you need to speak slower," Mike said, in a calming manner, "let me put you on speaker phone..." he pushed a button and now Connie was made privy to the conversation.

Jenny Lupo's voice was sharp and urgent, "_Please! Please come here right away! Something terrible, absolutely TERRIBLE has happened!"_

Connie leaned forward towards the speaker, "Jenny, is it concerning your patient, Elizabeth -Wright?"

_"No, no, she's fine!"_Jenny assured them_, "It's not her...it's me! I need both of you here! NOW!"_

Her distress was evident. Mike and Connie exchanged glances, wondering what could be upsetting Jenny so much, since she stated that Mrs. Wright was fine.

_"_Give us the address and _w_e'll be right there, Jenny," Connie promised as they heard a big sigh of relief coming from Jenny's end. She quickly gave out Wesley Wright's residence and without even saying good-bye, Jenny Lupo hung up.

"So what do you think?" Connie asked Mike.

"I think we better get over there ASAP," Mike stated, "I have a bad feeling about this."

They immediately left.

.

.

The Remington-Wright Estate was an impressive two and a half story white house. With its manicured lawn and hedges along with the wide veranda, it gave the appearance of a country estate despite the fact that it was only a half an hour drive away from the center of New York City.

Mike and Connie were on the porch and when he rang the doorbell, a middle aged woman, whom they assumed was the housekeeper, Irene, answered the door. She was plain-looking and grim-faced.

"Well, it didn't take you long to get here at all!" the housekeeper announced, as if she were expecting them, "Step this way please."

She led them across a reception hall into a big living room. The place was spacious and seemed to have been carefully and elaborately planned, a room which radiated the touch of an interior decorator. The curtains had been pulled across the windows, but it was the view on the west that was the most impressive with its huge picture window against the backdrop of easy chairs and ottomans on each side.

Along with the housekeeper, there were three other people in the room. Jenny Lupo was one of them, standing near one corner, her eyes widened slightly. Nearby was a uniformed security officer. The other male was a distinguished, silver haired gentleman who introduced himself as Wesley Wright.

Jenny had explained that they had been expecting the arrival of the police, which is why the housekeeper seemed as though knew them. With the security officer already placed here, and law officers on their way, Mike and Connie knew Jenny was in deep trouble.

"Mr. Wright has accused me of theft!" Jenny exclaimed indicating the older man, "Can you believe it? Of _theft!_ And this...this here," she pointed to the other man," is a private security officer named Reed. He has evidently been spying on me for some time without the courtesy of letting me knowing about _any_ of this! I am living a nightmare!"

Wesley Wright looked suspiciously at Mike and Connie as he spoke very carefully "_Hold on, right here now_...you mean, you aren't the police that I called?"

"No, we're not," verified Mike.

"So if you two aren't the police, who the hell are you two?" he asked impatiently.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jenny interjected angrily, "They are here to protect me against these false accusations! I'm tired of all of this! I quit! You're trying to frame me for a crime I did NOT commit! So... these two are my lawyers!"

"What kind of person calls lawyers so quickly?" Wesley Wright questioned before answering snarkily, " Oh that's right..._guilty_ ones."

Meanwhile, the security officer looked at Mike and Connie and asked calmly, "Is that true? Has Ms. Lupo retained counsel?"

"We are attorneys _with_ Ms. Lupo," Connie stated, not exactly telling a lie, but implying something that was really was not true. Mike had no option but to play along.

"That we are," he insisted as Connie gave him a grateful look.

"I don't need you two here! I'm waiting for the police!" Wesley Wright blustered, "Your client is _guilty _and as soon as the police arrive, I am having her arrested for the crime!"

Everything was happening so fast.

"But I didn't do _anything_!" Jenny burst in indignantly. Connie assuredly placed her hand on Jenny's arm to calm her.

"I suggest you don't say anymore, Jenny," Connie said, "let us handle it."

"That's the first _smart_ thing I've heard all morning!" exclaimed Wesley Wright as he continued addressing Mike and Connie, "and let me say something else about your client...she is a thief and we can prove it because we caught her red-handed too!"

Mike and Connie knew better than to have a reaction. So they said nothing, although when they looked over to the security guard, he was nodding his head.

"It's true," security officer Reed stated objectively, "Mr. Wright and I have all the evidence we need to convict your client, Jenny Lupo, of theft."

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.

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	6. Chapter 6

Arrested Development

Chapter 6

Wright had just accused Jenny Lupo of jewelry theft.

"So are you representing Jenny Lupo or what?" Wesley Wright stared angrily at Mike and Connie, obviously not happy with their appearance.

"And what if we are?" Mike stepped up and stared the man down.

"You are being rude to the wrong person, " Wesley did not back down, "**_I_** am the victim here. While my invalid wife lies sick in her bed, this _so-called_ night _caretaker_ has been stealing whatever jewelry she can from us!"

"Mr. Wright," Connie asked, "are you saying you were a witness to the alleged crime?"

"No, of course I didn't witness it!" he snapped, "I had noticed my wife's jewelry had been missing slowly, over several days. And if I am being totally honest here, I had suspected Ms. Lupo from the start. Turns out, I'm right! She's been stealing me blind all along!"

Jenny Lupo shot him a harsh glare.

"_You_ have room to talk about _stealing_!" she angrily countered, "Spoken from someone _who married for money!"_

"Do be quiet, woman, until I finish explaining the situation to your lawyers!" barked Wright.

He then turned back to Mike and Connie, "I have more than conjecture, Councilors. After I consulted with Reed here..." indicating his security officer, "he told me we needed proof of this heinous thievery. Believe me, I had to be careful, since I am well aware that any false accusations on my part might later expose me to a suit for damages. But mark my words, Jenny Lupo is a _thief and I have proof_!"

"How dare you!" Jenny shot forward and got right into his face, before Mike pulled her away.

Connie looked suspiciously at Wesley Wright, "What is this proof you speak of?"

"It was actually my security officer, Reed, who came up with the idea," Wesley Wright said. "We'd removed most of the really valuable pieces from my wife's jewelry box and substituted imitations. Then after taking inventory of the contents of the box, we dusted the jewelry box with a fluorescent powder so that if anyone touched that box, some of that powder would adhere to the fingers."

Wesley Wright then explained how he took the jewelry box out of the desk and left it on display with the fake jewelry inside.

"So today, after Ms. Lupo had finished her night shift, we inventoried the contents of the box again," Wesley Wright completed his story, "Lo, and behold, a diamond pendant was missing! So we called Ms. Lupo back. Then we activated this ultra-violet light device. The results were what we expected."

"And what's that?" Mike asked.

Wesley Wright smirked, "See for yourself," and with the self-importance of a showman on stage, he flipped the long-wand device on. There was a low buzzing sound as Wright ran the device directly over Jenny Lupo's hands. Her fingertips were flaming with a purplish-pink tinge. She tried to hide them behind her back, but by then, it was too late.

"There you go," demonstrated Wesley Wright, smiling like a proud papa, "Try and explain THAT away!"

Jenny looked aghast. She then leaned in closely towards Mike and Connie, whispering so that the two men could not hear.

"_I swear, this is a set-up," _she pointed out_, "It's Wright's way of getting rid of me...because of, you know, those damn pills__..."_

She was referring to the fact that she suspected Wright of poisoning his wife with pills.

"You aren't going to talk your way out of this, Jenny!" Wesley Wright claimed, "I've set the trap and you took the bait... hook, line and sinker."

"Yeah, she'd be in a lot of trouble," Mike stated, "...if she were a fish..."

Connie advised Jenny, "Say nothing more, even if you are questioned by the police."

Jenny now looked alarmed, "Oh God! The police are involved!"

The conversation was interrupted as the doorbell rang.

"Oh _good_, looks like _the Police_ have arrived," Wesley Wright had a smug look. Then he called out, "Irene!" His housekeeper appeared immediately, "Irene, please let the police in and bring them _here_."

The housekeeper nodded and went to answer the door.

Soon Cyrus Lupo and Kevin Bernard came barreling into the room. They had heard the news on the police scanner.

"Uh-oh," Jenny thought as Cyrus approached her, an angry expression on his face.

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.

Later in the afternoon Mike and Connie were back in Jack's office and he did not look happy.

Wesley Wright had filed charges and it looked as if they were going to court.

"Did I hear you two correctly," Jack needed to take a deep breath to calm his nerves, "that in the interim of my taking office as the DA, you two have embarked on an non-sanctioned case where you two will be _defense l_awyers in a _criminal trial_? And here I thought we were all working for the DA's office!"

He looked from one to the other.

"Jack," Connie said, "we've already explained to you that these are very unusual circumstances. Jenny Lupo is related to one of our own."

"_And_ I've already spoken to Judge Hefner," Mike added, "so as long as we are licensed and practicing attorneys, we can defend Ms. Lupo since we have the court's permission to proceed."

"My point is _not_ whether you _can or cannot_ do it, it's _why_ do it at all!" Jack snapped.

"We've already told you the reason why we will be on the defense side," Connie sensibly said, "we truly believe in Jenny Lupo's innocence."

Jack watched her intently.

She had never done anything like this the entire time he had worked with her. Was this due to Mike's influence?

"And how did Mike convince you to get mixed up in all this, Connie?" Jack wanted to know.

She stood firm, "If you must know, Jack, _**I**_ was the one who got _Mike_ involved in all of this."

Mike's eyebrows shot up when Connie had used his first name of "Mike" again.

Jack couldn't believe his own ADA was the one who initiated the absurdity of all this. But at least they seem to be working as a team now. That encouraging thought seemed to calm Jack down a bit.

"If you take this case, how will you two even have time to defend her?" he inquired.

"Theoretically, Jack," said Mike, "I haven't started working yet, so officially I am free to do pro bono work."

"Yes, pro bono work but for _us, Mike, not_ for the other side!" Jack was going to give it one last push.

Mike drew himself up taller, "I'd like to think I'm working on the side of justice!"

Jack couldn't believe how Mike was beginning to sound more and more like himself. Which means he won't be able to get through to Mike's thick skull.

"Well, you've got guts, I'll hand you _that._"

"Don't worry," assured Mike, "this won't change my start date to head up this office on Monday."

Jack looked doubtful, "So in four days you really think you'll be completely done with that case?

"I had started my career in the public defendant's office," Mike explained, "so I am well aware of the ins and outs of being a defense lawyer."

"And your point?" Jack inquired.

"I have a keen sense about whether or not I can win a case. And this one I can win because our client is innocent," Mike stated confidently, "I can have this wrapped up in two days."

Jack raised his brows. He didn't know if Mike was too self assured or too crazy when it came to his prosecutory abilities. Jack once again was questioning his decision in hiring Mike.

"And here I figured you needed these four days to move in!" Jack sardonically commented.

Mike shrugged, "I think I can have this case finished up _and_ set up my office at the same time. It's called multitasking."

Jack guffawed, "In my day, we took pride in doing _one_ thing very well!"

"And since when did you start using terms such as 'in my day' as if you should be in a rocking chair on the front porch?" Mike asked.

"Right now, a rocking chair sounds very inviting to me!" Jack exclaimed.

"Jack," Connie spoke up at last, "just give Mike a chance."

"Oh?" he looked surprised that she was sticking up for Mike, while Mike looked absolutely astounded.

"You were the one who hired him, Jack," Connie reasoned, "You wanted someone with zeal, someone who would be a force of nature when it came to justice, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," admitted Jack, "but I thought _**I **_wasthe only person who had a monopoly on using questionable legal tactics!"

"No, I've always enjoyed playing that game, too," Mike said sardonically.

Jack hated to admit it. There was just something that he liked about Mike. He couldn't help it.

"I don't mind you joining in on the game, Mike," Jack quipped, "but, at the same time, do you have to make me squirm, _too_?"

And that's when Mike and Connie knew they had Jack on their side. But just barely.

"Look at it this way, Jack," Mike assured him, "this will be done and over with by the time Monday rolls around."

"Hmmph!" Jack sounded unsure, but he could see he would not be able to deter Mike and Connie from proceeding, "Just make sure when Monday rolls around, it doesn't _flatten_ the two of you!" he warned them.

.

.

It was getting late.

Mike and Connie were sitting in his half-organized office. He was holding the blue New York City baseball in his hand. Almost using it as a device to clear his mind.

"I hope Jenny Lupo will be alright," Connie said, as she sat across Mike at his desk.

Jenny Lupo had been arrested and taken downtown alongside a very upset Cyrus Lupo. Mike and Connie had just gotten back from the interrogation room at the 2-7, where they made sure Jenny had not said a word.

"She'll be fine," Mike stated assuredly.

Connie looked appreciatively at him, "Thanks for helping me deal with Jack."

She seemed sincere.

It was the first time she let her guard down since the day he met her at Macy's. They found themselves instinctively gazing at one another. He liked the warmth he saw in her eyes and the new hint of color in her cheeks. Mike puzzled over the contradictory facts regarding Connie. And the longer he was with her, the more he felt some unidentifiable knotted feeling tighten deep inside him.

Connie couldn't seem to look away, either. The effect he had on her was unlike any other man she ever found him challenging yet fascinating, and her heartbeat quickened as she worked to keep her breathing even.

Mike cleared his throat, causing Connie to look uncomfortably down on the floor.

"No need to thank me, Connie," he told her, his voice sounding a little gentler than usual, "although it wasn't very much fun being yelled by the boss even before I begin my position."

Connie swallowed, "Oh, Jack wasn't really mad."

Mike looked at her wistfully, "he wasn't?"

She liked that he cared so much about Jack's opinion.

"No, not by any means," she responded, now with a bit of amusement, "...however, he's getting there very quickly!"

"Gee, thanks for the comforting remark," Mike dryly stated, although his mouth slightly curved up.

Connie wanted to smile back, but it was getting...too personal. Time to get back on track.

"So where does Jenny stand with the charges now?" she asked him.

"The most they can charge Jenny Lupo with is petty larceny," Mike declared, now focusing on the baseball, "because despite what Mr. Wright believes, he replaced the eight thousand dollars diamond pendant with pasted jewelry. So at worse, she is guilty of stealing costume jewelry."

"Hmmm," Connie pondered carefully, "With lesser charges, I could handle this case on my own, if you want to take the time to straighten your office." She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to go up against a multi-millionaire but she was willing to give Mike a way out, "I'm used to Jack's tirades."

Her words seemed to hang in the air and Connie found herself mentally crossing her fingers as she waited for Mike's response. His expression gave away nothing.

"I'd like to work with you on the case," he responded quietly, before adding, "that is...if you'll have me."

His words gave her goosebumps on her arms as he stared directly at her again.

"I'd appreciate your help," she simply said.

It was all settled then.

They were interrupted when they heard the buzzing of Mike's Blackberry. He immediately picked it up. Connie could tell from the conversation that he was talking with Lieutenant Van Buren. After he hung up, he looked frustrated.

"Well, that answers _that!_" Mike commented, "which means it _solves_ absolutely nothing..."

"What happened?" Connie asked, confused.

"We've got the results back from the lab regarding that tablet Jenny Lupo gave us."

Connie was at the edge of her seat, "And?"

Mike sighed, "it turned out to be acetylsalicylic acid."

"Acetylsalicylic acid?" Connie's mouth dropped, "You mean to say it was nothing more...than _aspirin_?"

"Yes!" Mike exclaimed, "...so it appears that Wesley Wright is looking better and better as a caring husband, while Jenny Lupo is beginning to look more and more like a robbery suspect!"

"You're not having second doubts about trying the case, are you?" Connie asked him.

"Not at all," Mike said, steely eyed, "I have my ways of dealing with a manipulator like Wesley Wright."

Connie thought it almost sounded like a threat. She wondered what kind of lawyer Mike really was. One look at his determined expression told her that he was like a junkyard dog that would never give up in a fight.

Except junkyard dogs weren't always victorious, either.

"By the way, " Connie asked, "did you ever get that aspirin pill back from the lab?"

"Not yet," he said, and then peered questionably at her, "why?"

"Because," she teased with a wobbly smile, "...I feel a headache coming on!"

.

.

**_Court action next chapter!_**

_Please review_


	7. Chapter 7

A 'Fortunate' Day

Chapter 7

Tomorrow Mike and Connie will be defending Jenny Lupo against the wealthy Wesley Wright in criminal court. It did not look good for Jenny since there was evidence that she have gone into the Wright's jewelry box.

"At least I'll have the rest of the night to work on the case," Mike said, as he breathed a tired sigh.

To Connie, he really did look exhausted. It had been nonstop work for him. Connie didn't' t have any doubt it was a busy, difficult two days for him-especially since he's already caught the wrath of Jack, which in of itself, was rather draining.

She eyed him with empathy, "Do you... need help? I can stay...if you want, that is..."

At first he seemed surprised and then it changed to a look of wistfulness.

"I could order Chinese food...if you'd like..." he suggested.

Connie broke into a genuine smile, "Chinese food is one of my favorites."

"How does shrimp lo mein sound?"

"Great!" Connie said, "and I wouldn't complain if some egg rolls and orange chicken suddenly found their way inside the bag, too!"

Mike picked up the phone, "I'm on it!" he exclaimed excitedly as he dialed _Wong's._

.

An hour later the familiar Chinese boxes were half-emptied. At different times they had each dined separately at this place, but somehow the food was especially delectable when they shared the food together.

Mike started by telling Connie a humorous story about his nervousness when he prosecuted his very first case. She was trying to stifle a grin as he continued to relate his story.

"You did NOT ask the witness that question on the stand!" Connie half-laughed as she fiddled with the chopsticks at the bottom of one of the white cartons she held in her hand.

"I did," Mike admitted, as he took his last bite of his egg roll, "and that wasn't even the worst blunder I made regarding that witness."

Connie stopped working her chopsticks at the bottom of the carton and looked up, "Oh? How could it get any worse?"

Mike wiped his hands on his napkin, "Then I asked the witness, _'So the defendant had three children?'_ and after the witness said _'yes_', I asked _'how many were_ _boys_?' and the witness responded with '_none_' to which I then followed up with the brilliant question: _'Were any of them_ _girls?'_ You should have seen the look the witness gave me!"

"_Nooo_!" Connie laughed, "I wished I was in the gallery just to hear that testimony!"

"Oh, but there's more, Kimosabe!" Mike claimed as she grinned.

"I can't imagine! Go on," Connie encouraged him.

"The next witness was the coroner," Mike explained, "So when she gets on the stand, I bungled the question with, _'Doctor,_ _how many of your autopsies have you performed on the dead?'_ and with a straight face she responded with, _'All of them. They're the types that don't complain._'"

Connie laughed so hard she almost had tears in her eyes. She couldn't remember when she had so much fun on a date. Then her eyes widened at the idea that she had thought of THIS as a _date. _So instead she reached over, grabbed her fortune cookie and read the fortune.

"Oh myyy," she said, her eyes dancing in merriment.

Mike tried to peer over, "Why, what does it say?"

She read it out loud this time: _The world may be your oyster, but that doesn't mean you'll get the pearl._"

He smiled, "Underwater fortunes are the _deepest,_ wouldn't you say?"

Connie returned his smile, thinking she was having a grand time.

"What does YOUR fortune say?" she challenged, peering over as he reached over for his cookie.

"Let's see, shall we?" he said mysteriously, as he cracked the cookie and read the fortune in his most serious tone:

_"Never wear your best pants when you go fight for justice."_

They looked at each other with stunned expressions before breaking up in laughter.

.

.

_(The next day)_

The bailiff announced, "All rise, the Honorable Derek Hefner now presiding."

Along with everyone else, prosecutor Harry Nelson stood. He glanced over with disdain at the defense table. Already he hated Cutter, but not due to this case. Nelson hated that he had been passed over for the position of EADA for this...unknown lightweight...this Cutter guy. He also hated the idea that a petty larceny case had been turned into a jury trial. And that annoyance would manifest itself into everything he said or did in court today.

Judge Hefner took the bench and everyone sat.

He had presided on many cases, including Jack McCoy's first case. And now McCoy was promoted. Good riddance, Jack, the Judge thought, may I never see you in court again. He was relieved to be rid of a headache. He just hoped he didn't have to deal with another rebellious rule-breaker.

Wesley Wright' private security officer was first put on the stand by the prosecution side.

James Reed testified that he had been hired to stop a series of petty thefts occurring at the Wright's residence. He therefore had secured the blue/green powder which showed when exposed to ultra-violet light. He then removed the valuable jewelry and replaced them with glass ones in the jewelry box. Afterwards he and Wesley Wright called the defendant into the living room and upon using the ultra-violet lights wand, it showed Jenny Lupo's fingers to have turned a fiery bluish-green.

Prosecutor Harry Nelson looked pleased at the concise testimony, "No further questions. Your witness."

Mike stood and Connie could see that security officer James Reed braced himself for an abusive cross-examination.

"I will stipulate that everything Mr. Reed stated is the truth." Mike announced to the surprise of everyone in the room, including Connie. "and I have no questions for this witness."

And then Mike sat down again.

_No questions at all?_ Connie thought disappointingly to herself.

She was used to Jack's exploratory method of questioning every witness and now began to wonder about Mike's ability as an attorney. Perhaps his confidence was merely an act.

Prosecutor Harry Nelson also seemed to be caught off guard by Mike non-involvement with a witness, "...Very well,...then I would like to call up my next witness, Wesley Wright, to the stand."

When Connie peered over at Mike, she noticed his intense interest at the appearance of Wright.

Wesley Wright marched decisively to the witness stand and told his story to everyone, reinforcing further how the fluorescent powder had been placed on the jewelry box and then left on the writing desk and how Jenny Lupo''s hand revealed the same powder.

Looking pleased with the finished testimony, Harry Nelson sat down.

Judge Hefner then turned to Mike and asked, "Do you care to question _this_ witness, Mr. Cutter?" he asked, a bit sarcastically.

Mike stood, "Yes, I would, your Honor."

Wesley Wright cleared his throat uncomfortably as Mike approached him.

"Mr. Wright, could you describe for us the jewelry box involved with this case?" Mike asked politely.

Wright seemed both surprised and relieved at the non-hostile opening question from the defense side.

"The shape of the jewelry box? It's very much like a treasure chest," he described, " except it's covered with leather and studded with silver nails. There are also leather handles on each side."

"I see," Mike pondered, treating the answer seriously, "and what about the dimensions of the jewelry box?"

Wright contemplated, "It's rather large. I'd say about 15 inches by ten inches by ten inches."

Mike acknowledged, "And it was the property of your wife?"

"Yes," agreed Wright, "I had given it to her for Christmas a year ago."

"That was a nice gift for her."

Wright was beginning to think this was easier than he originally thought.

"I thought so myself," Wright stated.

At this point, Wright's lawyer, Harry Nelson, stood.

"Your Honor," Nelson complained, "Does Mr. Cutter plan to set up a bridal registry? Otherwise, I don't see the point of this tedious questioning!"

"Sustained," the Judge ruled, clearly not interested in any long drawn-out testimony. "Move it along, Mr. Cutter."

"Of course, Your Honor."

Connie looked thoroughly baffled at Mike's line of questioning.

What was Mike's purpose of asking about the jewelry box?

Was he just wasting time?

Meanwhile, she watched Mike pace the floor back in forth, deep in thought. Suddenly, he halted his steps.

"Now Mr. Wright," Mike inquired, "regarding the contents in the jewelry box... when you believed someone had been taking jewelry from it, you decided to replace the real jewelry with some imitation pieces in the box and then the jewelry box was dusted with powder, is that right?"

"Yes."

"And then, what time did you check the jewelry box along with its contents again?"

"Six o'clock in the morning, after Ms. Lupo's shift ended."

"And both you and Mr. Reed made the examination of the jewelry box after her shift?"

"Yes."

"Who opened the jewelry case?"

"I did," said Wesley Wright, "since it was locked."

"Really? So you had to open it with a key?"

"Yes."

"So if it was locked all night and morning," Mike reasoned, "then how could anyone have gotten into it?"

"Who knows?" Wright answered immediately, "The thief could have made a duplicate key, which was not impossible to do_, or_ the lock could have been easily picked. This was only a jewelry box after all, not Fort Knox."

He smirked at his own cleverness.

And it was obvious he was expecting such a question.

Mike nodded. Connie didn't understand where Mike was going with his line of questioning. They had discussed none of this last night_. Last night while sharing stories and Chinese food,_ she fondly recalled. She had to force herself not to smile.

"Did your security officer have a key?" Mike asked.

"No, only my wife and me."

"And, why would you need a key to your wife's jewelry case, Mr. Wright?" Mike looked interested.

"It's a matter of precaution," Wright explained, "You know how women are always losing things. I gave _her_ a key and then I retained another key in a safe place for _myself."_

"Oh, I see," said Mike, as he made a swift glance at the half a dozen female jurors, "so you felt that the reserve key would be safe in your possession and would guard against your wife's negligence?"

"That's right," he agreed.

"So your wife might be inclined to lose her key like women often did?" Mike asked.

"Didn't I just say that?" Wright looked a little impatient now.

"Yes you did," Mike nodded, "I just didn't realize you had such a contempt for the ability for women to keep things."

Wesley Wright looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Objection!" Harry Nelson immediately was on his feet, "Counsel is leading the witness!"

"Not at all, Your Honor," Mike said, "I was merely restating what the witness had said in my own words."

"Mr. Wright did not say that at all!" Harry Nelson bellowed, "If counsel is going to cross examine, he must use the witness' exact words!"

The Judge ruled, "I know of no precedence to buttress that fact, Mr. Nelson," he stated, "The witness can certainly correct Mr. Cutter if he is incorrect in his re-wording of the testimony. Overruled."

The Prosecutor had no choice but to lower himself back down.

"Now Mr. Wright-" Mike began.

" -but I never said those words!" Wesley Wright interrupted, looking completely indignant, "Do NOT put words in my mouth!"

"Mr. Wright, I will be the first to apologize if I misunderstood you," Mike calmly told him, "Tell you what. We can settle this matter very easily by asking the court reporter to read back her notes."

Mike instantly looked over at the court reporter, as well as the entire gallery. Wright instantly shot a look to his lawyer, Harry Nelson who looked annoyed and then shook his head. Both knew that Wright did basically admit that women were overall forgetful. He had also come off as having a lowly opinion of his wife's ability in keeping things. It would be a disadvantage to hear the court reporter's testimony and remind the jury of that.

"No, that's not...necessary..." Wright slumped back in his seat.

"Are you sure?" Mike asked politely.

Wright looked at Mike with complete hatred, "it's just...that's not what I meant!" he snapped.

"Oh, then you said something you didn't mean?" Mike gave him an innocent look.

"Yes!" Wright admitted.

"So you said something you didn't mean...under oath?"

Mike pretended to be listening very closely.

Wright realized he was digging himself a bigger hole.

"It was...a slip of the tongue!" declared Wright as he looked apologetically at the jurors.

"A slip of the tongue?" Mike repeated, "Do you mean you let slip something that wasn't true, Mr. Wright?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean...I just wasn't thinking!" Wright looked completely flabbergasted, "I was only trying to say that my wife has a habit of losing things!"

"...and did you not generalize by stating that that was a trait that women generally had?" Mike asked quickly.

"Oh, Your Honor," Prosecutor Harry Nelson stood, looking thoroughly annoyed, "Good Lord, we've been over this already! Asked and answered _ad nauseam_."

"But I think it's important, Your Honor," defended Mike, "to find out the attitude this witness may have towards women since my client is a woman. Also, I am interested in finding out what's in the back of Mr. Wright's mind when he _swears_ under oath that he made statements he didn't mean."

"Nothing in his testimony is incorrect, Your Honor!" claimed his lawyer, Harry Nelson, still standing.

"You mean, Mr. Wright _does_ say things he doesn't mean and he really _doe_s feel that women are not to be trusted with responsibility?" Mike asked, blinking quickly.

The Judge slightly smiled before banging his gavel. The women jurors were glaring at Wright as a few scattered spectators snickered.

"You've made your point, Mr. Cutter," the Judge stated, "so let's put an end to that line of questioning. " he then glanced at his watch, "_And_ this might be the perfect time to break for lunch. Court will resume again at two."

He decisively banged his gavel.

"All rise," the bailiff stated as the Judge left the bench.

Wordlessly, Mike returned to the defense table and began gathering his papers together.

As Connie glanced around the courtroom, she noted how the prosecutor appeared angry, the gallery seemed entertained, and Wesley Wright looked completely flustered. It seemed the proceedings went exactly as Mike had hoped.

She next leaned over to him and whispered, "_I see you've worn your best pants and justice still managed a small victory,_" she jested, alluding to his silly fortune from yesterday.

And even though he still had questions for Wright, Mike felt he had already won the case.

.

.

_More courtroom testimony to come!_

_Please review_


	8. Chapter 8

The verdict

Chapter 8

.

They were all back in court by two o'clock.

"Before we proceed," Judge Hefner announced, "I'd like both sides to approach the bench."

Harry Nelson, the prosecutor, along with Mike and Connie wordlessly went and stood before the Judge.

"Mr. Cutter," the Judge directed his talk to him, "I assume at this point you must be patting yourself on the back with your questioning of Mr. Wright. But let me remind you cannot build a case simply on attacking a witness' so-called prejudices. Mr. Wright's impressions regarding female forgetfulness is not on trial here."

Although Mike had been successful thus far, unfortunately Connie felt the judge had a point.

Meanwhile, the prosecutor, Harry Nelson, plastered a smirk on his face.

"Thank you for pointing that out, Your Honor!"

"I assure you, Your Honor," Mike said respectfully, "that I will be moving beyond that point."

"Let us hope so," the Judge responded, "because you need to make sure the _next_ set of questions to this witness pertains only to the theft that took place at his residence! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Your Honor."

"Then step back."

And as the three of them walked back to their respective tables, Connie couldn't wait to see what else Mike has up his sleeve.

She didn't have to wait long. Mike next instructed a none-too-happy Wesley Wright back to the stand. He was reminded that he was still under oath as he sat down again.

"Now Mr. Wright," Mike stated, "I'd like to now direct our talk to the jewelry case itself. Your security officer had sprinkled some fluorescent powder on the jewelry box but only on the outside, is that right?"

"Yes."

"And in regards to that, are there _other_ ways a person could get some of that powder on their fingers without having to...oh, I don't know.._.steal_ something from the jewelry box?" Mike inquired.

Wright looked puzzled, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"I'll word it this way, then Mr. Wright," Mike theorized, "isn't it possible that the defendant, Jenny Lupo, could have had some of the residue fluorescent powder on her hands simply by inadvertently touching the case or because she needed to move it for the purpose of getting at something that was behind it?

From the defense table Connie nodded knowingly. They had discussed those theories last night.

"There would be no reason for her to touch the case," Wright answered coldly, "and I will say it again. A necklace was found missing and there was telltale fluorescent powder on her fingers when I tested her!"

"I understand, she had it on her fingers..." Mike repeated, "but I'm just asking you to consider the possibility that.."

"Objection!" the prosecutor stood, "Is there a _point_ to this line of questioning? Mr. Cutter asking for Mr. Wright's suppositions on different theories of what COULD have happened is tedious and will get us _nowhere_, Your Honor!"

"I'm inclined to agree," the Judge concurred,"sustained."

The prosecutor gave a victorious look at Mike.

"Very well, I'll move on," Mike acknowledged, "So, Mr. Wright, where was the jewelry box when the defendant, Jenny Lupo, had supposedly first spotted it?"

"On top of the writing desk," he stated.

Mike did one of his 'surprised' looks.

"A rather _odd_ place for a jewelry box!" he asserted, "Is that where it's usually kept, Mr. Wright?"

"No," Wright replied, "we usually keep it locked in the desk drawer."

"I see." Mike mulled that answer over, "How convenient it must be that when you want to discharge the defendant in disgrace, coincidentally you then take the jewelry box out of the desk and place it enticingly on top of the desk in an inviting position."

"Your Honor!" Harry Nelson stood with indignation for his client, "Is there a _question_ in that unsubstantiated statement?"

"Never mind," Mike waved his statement away.

Connie could see Mike did not wait for a Judge's ruling. He had cleverly planted the idea of a set up in the jury's mind as he continued his line of questioning.

He then asked, "You had previously stated that the jewelry case was a gift from you to your wife. Is that correct, Mr. Wright?"

"Yes," Wright sat up proudly, "and my wife absolutely adored it at that time."

"The way you had previously described the jewelry case made it certainly sound exquisite... and expensive," Mike noted.

Wright nodded, now looking more relaxed,"Yes, when it comes to giving my wife gifts, money is no object, Mr. Cutter."

"That is quite generous of you, " Mike agreed, "Now, what do you think of this, Mr. Wright...Wouldn't it be quite natural for a woman, who is employed inside the house for many hours a day, to want to take a closer look, if she spots a beautiful jewelry box?"

"I've learned _never_ to make blanket statements about women, Mr. Cutter!" Wright declared.

Connie grinned. Wright had learned his lesson well.

"Point taken," Mike nodded knowingly, "but you must admit that _anyone_, male _or_ female, will gravitate towards something exquisite, unusual and attractive. Jenny Lupo would be no different, wouldn't you say, Mr. Wright?"

"Dogs and cats are also distracted by interesting objects," Wright sensibly reasoned, "so I don't see your point!"

"But _you_ do not have _dogs and cats _in your employment, Mr. Wright," Mike retorted back, "so I ask you again...is it so unusual for someone to approach an expensive item such as a jewelry case, if he or she had never seen it before, since it had been previously locked away in a desk?"

"A person can certainly _touch_ an item but that doesn't mean the person should _take _something from it!_" _Wright stubbornly insisted.

"Permission to treat this witness as hostile," Mike announced to the Judge.

Judge Hefner nodded, "Proceed, Mr. Cutter."

"Mr. Wright," Mike spoke slowly, "Let me elaborate. It seems to be human nature that when a person sees a beautiful, expensive item, they may want to touch it. For example, he or she may want to run their hands down a new, shiny sports car, or feel the silkiness of expensive clothes. Isn't it possible that Jenny Lupo was merely feeling and admiring the fine, exquisite jewelry box and THAT'S how she got fluorescent powder on her fingers without actually _opening_ the case?"

Now Connie was beginning to understand why Mike had a reputation as a brilliant attorney. Despite Wright's evasiveness, he managed to get his alternate theory regarding how Jenny Lupo received powder on her hands in, anyway.

Wright looked tongue-tied, "I-I don't know how to answer that."

But Connie and Mike had already noted the recognizable nods from many of the jurors. They obviously had experienced touching something interesting or enchanting at a store without purchasing it. Mike paced back and forth to allow the theory to absorb into the jury's mind. When he spoke again, he had changed subjects.

"When the defendant, Jenny Lupo, was arrested, Mr. Wright," Mike began, "did you go down to the precinct to sign a complaint?"

"I sure did!" Wright said, looking confident again.

"So then, who was left at the house to take care of your ailing wife, Elizabeth Wright?" Mike asked.

"Irene, our housekeeper was still there." Wright looked even more sure.

"And she saw the police leading Jenny Lupo away, is that correct, Mr. Wright?"

"Oh yes!" Wright looked almost jubilant, "Our housekeeper was glad we caught the thief. She told me she was wondering why the jewelry box was left out all day and night. She had earlier tried to put it away, but the desk was locked."

"Really now?" Mike gave Wright a sharp look and Wright realized he may have made a slip, "Then she must have gotten some fluorescent powder on her fingers, too!"

"Objection!" Harry Nelson shouted, "Argumentative! Calls for a conclusion from the witness."

"Sustained," the Judge ruled.

Mike tried a different tactic, "You didn't examine the housekeeper's hands under the ultra-violet light, did you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Wright started looking uncertain. He looked over at the Prosecutor, but there was nothing to object to, "Well..uh...it should have been my security officer's job, but Reed never even suggested it!"

"_His_ job? Beyond and above running security for your entire household?" Mike inquired, "Were you paying him separately for this jewelry box job?"

Wright couldn't imagine where Mike was going, but he knew he better answer truthfully, "In a sense, yes. I was offering him a bonus."

At this new fact, Mike looked even more pleased, "A _bonus_? To solve what happened to the missing jewelry? Could you elaborate, Mr. Wright?"

Wright wondered if he said too much, "I guess you might say I paid him his regular salary plus a bonus."

"How much of a bonus?" Mike asked.

"...a thousand dollars."

The picture was becoming clearer to Mike now, "Could you now tell the court who was in the house the day of the theft, Mr. Wright?"

Wright looked a little puzzled at the sudden switch, "Who was at the house? Let's see, " he began listing, "the housekeeper Irene; the security officer Reed; myself, Jenny Lupo and of course, my wife, who was ill in another room."

"And you suspected no one except Jenny Lupo?"

"My housekeeper has been with me for years," Wright explained, "same with James Reed, my security officer. Both have proven their loyalty through the years. Ms. Lupo, however, has only been with me a month and it is during that time that jewelry have gone missing. So it had to be her or nobody."

"Okay...but in _theory,"_ Mike stated, "excluding your wife, _everyone_ probably had fluorescent powder on their hands that crucial night."

"Objection!" Harry Nelson flew up, "Counsel is testifying."

"I'm just going by Mr. Wright's own testimony, Your Honor," Mike stated while managing to look innocent.

"Mr. Cutter forgot to hop and skip...he just _jumped _to conclusions, Your Honor," Prosecutor Nelson countered, "The witness never stated those exact words."

"Overruled," decided the Judge, "but you do need to move on, Mr. Cutter."

He nodded.

"So, Mr. Wright," Mike surmised, "if a piece of fake costume jewelry was missing from the jewelry case and there was evidence that would link the defendant with that missing piece, Mr. Reed would get one thousand dollars, is that right?"

Again, Connie couldn't imagine where he was going with his line of questioning, but she was intrigued. Wesley Wright kept trying to go left but Mike kept forcing him to go right.

"I don't like the way you've expressed it!" blustered Wright.

Mike acknowledged with a nod, "Then I'll give you the opportunity to express it _your_ way, Mr. Wright."

Mike patiently waited while Wright sat up and cleared his throat.

"It was a bonus for completion of a job." he stated succinctly, his head held high.

"Have you paid the bonus to Mr. Reed yet, Mr. Wright?" Mike asked.

"No. Not yet."

Mike looked incredulous, "But why not? As you have stated. Jenny Lupo must be the thief."

"The defendant hasn't been convicted yet," Wright explained, "it is to be paid when Ms. Lupo was found guilty of the theft."

Wright looked satisfied with his statement.

"I see, " Mike acknowledged, his expression serious, "Then, Mr. Wright, you _also_ have a doubt in your mind as to whether this jury should or would convict the defendant?"

Wright's smug expression fell.

Mike's _go_t him _again,_ she thought. Connie couldn't help the victorious smile that came to her lips.

"Objection!" Harry Nelson bellowed, "Argumentative!"

"Sustained."

"I have no further questions,. A sincere thank you, Mr. Wright, for your testimony." Mike started to walk away back to his table with Wright glaring at him the entire way.

The Judge then asked each side for closing arguments.

Prosecutor Harry Nelson noted how Jenny Lupo never liked her employer, Wesley Wright. She had means and opportunity to steal the necklace. The powder on her hands was evidence that the defense never fully explained away.

For the defense, Mike argued that all the prosecution had proven was that Jenny Lupo had touched an expensive jewelry box. The prosecution's burden was to show beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant was guilty, but there were other suspects present in the house. In fact, there is evidence that even the accuser himself must not have been completely convinced that Jenny Lupo would be convicted on such weak evidence, for he had not paid his employer for setting the trap.

The jury retired and returned in less than an hour with a verdict of not guilty.

Justice had been served.

Mike and Connie walked silently out into the hallway, both pleased with the win.

"You were quite impressive in there, Mike," Connie stated with new admiration in her voice.

Mike was internally delighted with the idea that she may be calling him _Mike_ from now on.

"Thanks."

Then they heard loud footsteps rushing from behind them.

"You're going to burn in hell, Cutter!" Wesley Wright ranted as he came up to them, "Mark my words, I'm going to get back at you one day!"

And then he stormed off.

Mike shrugged. He'd certainly heard threats before, so it didn't bother him. What he was thinking now was how he had broken his own courtroom record. It took exactly one day for his case to be tried, including the jurors' rendered decision.

With a smile, Mike couldn't wait for Jack to hear the good news.

He will be so pleased.

.

.

_No, it's not the end of this story! A lot more to come!_

_Again, I'm not in the legal field, so I apologize if I got the terms wrong. _

_I have to say, courtroom scenes are the most fun, but most challenging to write!_

_Please review_


	9. Chapter 9

An Old Case Turns New Again

(I'm moving the story forward to the present. My version of Season 21!)

Chapter 9

Summer, 2014

_Seven years brought many changes to the law and order enforcers of New York City._

_Detectives Lupo and Bernard proved to be a winning team. Jenny Lupo was now working at the 2-7 in an administrative capacity which allowed Cyrus to keep a close eye on her. She and Connie had also formed a bond and often lunched together._

_Meanwhile the DA's office was running like a well-oiled machine. Jack was still the District Attorney. __Mike and Connie were still professional partners. They_ didn't always win his cases, but it could never be said that they didn't give it their all.

_._

It was early morning, and as always, Mike was one of the few prosecutors in his office. He had just completed filing his last case and was now seated at his desk. Looking at his array of baseballs which he had meticulously lined up, he grabbed the blue one and held it in his hand, admiring the feel of its fine stitching.

Instead of an image of a baseball game, however, he imagined how Connie would love to sit at the edge of his desk holding one of the baseballs securely in her hand while he wrote out a brief. Every now and then he would stop and ask her a legal question and she would be right there to answer. It felt as comforting as chicken soup.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

It was Jack.

Mike's head shot up, "Jack, didn't expect to see you here so early in the morning. Any interesting new cases pop up?"

"Interesting, yes," Jack stated as he slid a folder across Mike's desk, "but new, not quite. More like a continuation of an old one."

Mike peered over at Jack suspiciously before he picked up the file Jack had flung down in front of him. He glanced at the contents in the folder and instantly a scowl appeared on his face.

"Wesley Wright?" Mike questioned, "I haven't heard that name in _what_, five years?"

"Try seven," Jack said, "Seven long years of him supposedly caring for his invalid wife...until now."

Mike's expression didn't change," You mean..his wife Elizabeth is dead?"

"I see your crystal ball is still by your side!" Jack stated sarcastically.

"And seeing that we've had dealings with that family before, "Mike deduced, "my crystal ball also tells me that Elizabeth Wright didn't die of natural causes."

"Right again," Jack verified, "according to the coroner, Elizabeth Wright died from a_rsenic poisoning."_

Mike looked a little stunned.

"Just as Jenny Lupo had predicted," he half murmured to himself. He read a little further down in the file, "But I see you've already assigned this case to Bill Anderson. Why didn't I get this case?"

"No special reason," Jack claimed, "I know you and Wright have history, but we're not prosecuting him for the murder of Elizabeth Wright."

Mike looked stunned, "So what is saying is that Wright _isn't_ the defendant in Elizabeth Wright's murder?

"No, " Jack told him, "we're prosecuting someone else for the murder."

"But Jenny Lupo had already warned us that Wright was out to poison his wife..." Mike began.

"...seven years ago!" snapped Jack, "And need I remind you that those pills Wright supposedly wanted to give his wife tested out to be aspirin? So he was cleared of attempting murder _then_, and he's not even charged of murder _now_."

"But you have doubts regarding whether or not we're prosecuting the right person," Mike said it like a statement.

"I'm reconsidering my decision of assigning Bill this case," Jack looked aggravated, "He's always been rather quick on the trigger. The investigation had not even been completed, and then before I could blink, Anderson had filed a motion accusing Elizabeth's sister, Jackie, of the murder!"

"And you have doubts as to Elizabeth Wright's sister being guilty of this murder?"

"I don't know _what_ to think!" Jack exclaimed, "but something tells me that Anderson had filed the charges prematurely without considering other options."

"So what do you plan to do?" Mike questioned.

"I can only tell you one thing right now," Jack concluded, "if it turns out that Bill Anderson is prosecuting the wrong person, there'll be another murder committed right here in this office!" Jack half-threatened.

.

.

The elevator door opened and Connie walked out, ready for the start of a new day. Deciding to walk past her office, she instead approached Mike's office.

They had been working partners for the past seven years, and still the sight of seeing him every morning always filled her with excited anticipation. Through the glass windows she could see Mike and Jack mired deep in conversation. Perhaps she should let them be, she thought as she hesitantly stood at the doorway.

It was at that moment that she saw Mike look up and immediately fixed his gaze at her. His face seemed to light up and it didn't escape Jack's notice as he, too, turned at her arrival. Mike invitingly waved her in.

"Morning, you two," Connie greeted them.

"Connie, morning," Jack stated, when she stepped in. "Have a seat. I was just telling Mike about my predicament."

"Already, Jack?" Connie questioned with a smile, "the problematic wheels of justice do grind so very early in the morning, don't they?"

It seemed as if Mike couldn't take his eyes off of her as he watched her the entire time. He offered his greetings to her as she sat down. She nodded sweetly at him.

Jack watched the two interacting.

During the Marcus Woll investigation, Mike had once insisted to Jack that he and Connie were co-workers, not lovers. But he had declared it in such a frustrated tone that Jack realized, for the first time, how Mike must be holding secret feelings for her. And why wouldn't he? Connie was bright, beautiful and caring. How Mike had managed to bury his yearnings and keep their relationship professional was something Jack understood. It had been that way with him and Claire, although eventually they gave into their mutual attraction for one another.

But how Connie felt about Mike on her end, Jack couldn't speculate and he didn't want to anyway.

There was enough things happening in the office to keep him busy. So, instead, Jack updated Connie on the arsenic poisoning of Elizabeth Wright and how her sister, Jackie Remington, was the one who allegedly administered the lethal dose.

Mike and Connie exchanged furtive looks. Elizabeth Wright had died exactly how Jenny Lupo predicted she would. Too bad the pill they tested had proven to be only aspirin.

"So how does this Jackie Remington murder case concern us?" Connie wondered.

Mike was the one who responded, "I believe Jack is considering handing the case back to us. The old boomerang method of assigning cases."

Connie looked questionably at Jack, "I thought you'd mentioned this was Bill Anderson's case."

"I'm having my doubts as to Jackie Remington's guilt," Jack clarified further.

"What evidence do we have that the sister even killed Elizabeth?" Connie inquired.

"According to Anderson," Jack stated, "Jackie Remington had means and opportunity. She is also a pharmacist and was one of the few people in the house the night Elizabeth died. And she was the last one who gave the pills to her sister."

"Sounds pretty circumstantial to me," Connie said, "does the sister have a motive?"

Mike reached into the folder and pulled out a paper, "According to the file here, immediately upon Elizabeth's death, Jackie had presented an unofficial document that Elizabeth requested Jackie be added to her will regarding her estate."

He handed the dated addendum to Connie. It was written in Elizabeth Wright's careful handwriting and it read:

_I, Elizabeth Wright, officially make this my last will and testament. I no longer hold any affection for my husband, Wesley Wright. Therefore, I leave everything I own in this world to my beloved sister, Jackie Remington, with the understanding she will take care of my property_

Connie looked up after reading it, "Is this document legal?"

Jack shrugged, "That's what we're trying to ascertain. In New York, an addendum to a will could be considered legal if it is made, dated and signed in the handwriting of the testator, which in this case, turned out to be Elizabeth Wright."

"It was certainly dated and written by Elizabeth Wright, so two of the three conditions were met," Mike stated, as he pointed to the blank bottom, "but it's lacking her signature."

"Bill Anderson will argue in court that Elizabeth Wright wrote her name in her own writing, thus validating it as a signature," Jack explained, "Of course, the other side will argue that it was not legally signed and her name was only used as a description in the document. It's all too muddied for me to make a determination without consulting an expert on probate wills."

Connie looked back at the piece of paper. Something was not sitting right with her. She read it again, the words swimming before her eyes until she reached the very end.

"Hold on," Connie looked at both men, as she handed the paper back, "I _thought_ there was something peculiar about this addendum and now I see it. Did either one of you catch the error?"

Both Jack and Mike looked again at the document and questionably shook their heads.

"Look closely at the last line, especially the ending of it," Connie pointed out, "a final punctuation mark is missing. After the word _property_, there is no full stop, no period."

The men looked at the paper once again:

_...Therefore, I leave everything I own in this world to my beloved sister, Jackie Remington, with the understanding she will take care of my property_

.

"Hmmm," Jack pondered, "You're saying that the last phrase could either be read as a complete sentence or an argument could be made that the addendum had actually been left unfinished. That's a brilliant observation, Connie."

Her cheeks slightly colored at his compliment, "I've certainly typed enough legal briefs to notice when an official document is lacking." she stated modestly.

"So there are two meanings to the will," Mike surmised, "_One,_ that Elizabeth Wright explicitly left her sister rights to her property, or _Two,_ she could have meant:..._with the understanding that she will take my property _t_o be used for the purpose of _blah-blah-blah_, _which would completely change the intent of the will. "

"Damn! All this because of a lack of a punctuation mark!" Jack huffed, "So how do we decide which of the two ways she meant?"

Mike added, "And more to the point for this office, is this addendum connected to the killer who administered the poison? Did the conniving husband poison Elizabeth Wright to make sure the addendum would _not_ be added, thus ensuring he keeps the property, or did the sister with the pharmaceutical background poison her sister in hopes that the addendum _would_ be added, thereby giving her all property rights?"

"That's why I want the two of you working on this case," Jack confirmed.

"But this is Bill Anderson's case," Connie reasoned, "so if we get on board, won't that cause a lot of interoffice conflict?"

"I'll tell Anderson both of you are working in an advisory capacity," Jack explained, "because frankly, I don't know which way this case is headed!"

"Hopefully down the right path," Mike stated.

"It better be!" insisted Jack, "So you and Connie better slip on your ruby-red slippers and head down the courtroom path quickly so that we can convict the right killer!"

Mike and Connie exchanged looks again.

It was going to be one long week.

.

.

_(Yes, yes, I know Mike supposedly went to head up the SVU unit as Bureau Chief and Connie became a Federal Prosecutor, but I'm going to pretend that never happened and that they are still happily prosecuting cases together!)_

_So there is more to come!_

_Please review_


	10. Chapter 10

Memories

Chapter 10

It was early the next day and Mike and Connie entered the facility known as Rikers.

They were here to question Jackie Remington, suspect and sister of the victim. As Mike went to put on his Visitor's Pass badge, it inadvertently slipped from his hands, but Connie was able to catch it before it dropped to the ground.

"Good catch!" Mike smiled.

She held out his badge, "May I?" she asked.

Surprised, Mike watched as she casually hooked it the lapel of his suit. She was so close to him that he felt surrounded by the scent of her. He instinctivelyThe pining of the badget was such a tiny gesture, yet when she gave it an extra tap to make sure it was securely fastened, it seemed so private and intimate.

Just the thought of Connie's hands on his chest made Mike's throat constrict and he could only nod his thanks.

They were led into the 'interview' area which was basically a small room with a set of bars at one end, rather like a portable prison. Mike and Connie sat at the two chairs provided next to the worn table. An empty chair was on the other side. They made small talk as they waited for the accused to be brought in.

"Does it feel strange to hear the name Wesley Wright associated with a case after all these years?" Mike asked, as they sat alone waiting.

Connie smiled, "Well, it certainly brings back memories. Some of them annoying. If you remember, that was the first case we'd worked on."

"You mean the first _non_ case we worked on," Mike reminded her.

"Oh, that's right," Connie jested, "Your actual job was a tie sales clerk and you were simply moonlighting as an EADA."

"I'll have you know that my official job title was _a sales_ _coordinator for men's clothier,"_ he corrected her.

_"_I_ sit_ corrected!" Connie grinned just as they heard the sound of the jail bars sliding open.

The guard escorted a young stringy blonde haired woman into the room and led her to the seat before he left again, the clanking of the bars making a loud sound. Wearing the usual orange jumpsuit, she had a noncommittal expression pasted on her face.

Introductions were made all around, but the accused seemed bored with the two prosecutors who sat opposite her.

"So what does the DA's office want from me?" Jackie asked dully.

"We are acting in an advisory capacity for the DA's office, Miss Remington," Mike began, "and we have a few questions we'd like to ask you about matters surrounding your sister's death."

"Frankly, I'm tired of answering questions," she stated uncooperatively, "I'm stuck here and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Don't sell us short, Ms. Remington," Connie inserted, "if you can help us understand better the circumstances surrounding your sister's death, perhaps we can talk to the DA about lessening the charges."

Jackie turned to them with a little more interest, "What are you saying? You can drop the murder charges?"

"No guarantees, of course," Mike stated, "but it would be in your best interest to be more cooperative."

"Well, I didn't do it!" she announced, "I didn't kill my sister, but I know who did! It's that damn husband of hers, Wesley Wright that killed her!" continued Jackie, "That lowlife Moneybagger! I've told the police that, but they didn't believe me. Truthfully, I don't even think my lawyer believes that I didn't do it!"

Mike and Connie exchanged glances.

"There is a reason you were arrested and charged, Ms. Remington, " stated Mike, "You, in theory, also have a motive for killing your sister. And you also had a means to do it. So you may want to be more cooperative and answer the questions we ask you."

Jackie heaved a disinterested sigh, "Yeah, sure. What would it hurt? Go ahead and ask your questions."

Mike opened his briefcase and quickly locating the file, he pulled out a copy of the document that Elizabeth Wright had supposedly signed.

"Just for our own information," Mike began, "Could you first explain to us what this is about, Ms. Remington?"

Jackie gave a quick glance at the paper, "It's an addendum," she stated the obvious.

Connie lifted a brow, "And?"

"And it's what it says it is. It's an added clause to my sister's will."

Connie pointedly explained how there was no final punctuation at the end of the addendum.

"So?" Jackie sounded defensive, "I can't believe a teeny-weeny dot on a paper would determine if a will is legal. I think lawyers are just too technical sometimes!"

"The point is," Connie said, "it goes to the intent of your sister. When Elizabeth Wright wrote the last word, did she consider that it was a complete and final will, or did she start to make a will and was interrupted and never finished making the will? As it stands now, words could be added to the will, totally changing its meaning."

Jackie stared at Connie with understanding, "I see what you're getting at, but as far as I'm concerned, she wanted to give me the rights to all her properties."

"Perhaps, but the matter hasn't been determined as of yet," Connie felt she needed to push the issue, "so, why don't you tell us the circumstances of your sister Elizabeth writing the will."

Jackie gave a reluctant sigh.

"My sister has made it obvious that she abhorred that no good husband of hers," Jackie began, "so she finally decided she wanted to amend her will. So I gave her a piece of paper and a pen, and that's what she wrote out."

"Was she interrupted during her writing of the will?" Mike asked.

Jackie hesitated. After all, she wanted the will to stand as is.

"Maybe. "

Connie leaned in, "You're not being cooperative, Ms. Remington."

Jackie shrugged, "Liz gets tired easily and during that time, I think she may have rested, but she went right back to completing the will."

But she did not sound convincing.

"I think I've heard enough," Mike said, getting up, along with Connie.

"Wait!" Jackie sounded desperate, "You're leaving; you're not going to help me?"

Connie looked directly at her, "You need to be truthful with us or we can't help you."

Jackie looked as if a myriad of thoughts was running through her mind. At last, she took a very deep breath.

"If you must know, " she admitted, "Elizabeth was writing the will when Irene, the housekeeper, opened the door to check up on her. Elizabeth didn't want Irene to know what she was doing, so she slipped the piece of paper down under the bedcovers. When Irene left, Elizabeth needed to close her eyes because she was exhausted. After a while, I realized she was actually asleep. That's when I took the paper from under the covers and when I looked at it, it seemed finished...and so...I took the sheet and I turned it over to the lawyers," she said at last, "did I do something wrong?"

"You may have taken the document away from your sister prematurely," Connie said

"Well, I'm not a lawyer, so how was I to know?" Jackie defended herself, "but I swear, she meant what she wrote AND I did NOT kill her for the inheritance! I loved her! These past few years my sister has been living in a hell on earth and no one seemed to care but me. And now she's dead!"

A single tear formed in her eye and Jackie took a moment to wipe it away.

Mike nodded, more convinced than ever that Wesley Wright was involved.

"Tell us about the night surrounding your sister's death if you can, " Connie stated, as gently as possible.

"Oh, that," Jackie said grimly, "Well..my sister had a restless night. When the doctor had left the previous night, he had given me four pills that Elizabeth was to take. I left it in a saucer next to her bed. It was during this time that Liz insisted on changing the will, and that was of her own accord. Then at eight am, she was given the tablets that the doctor had prescribed. By ten-thirty Liz had wakened and was violently ill. The housekeeper had called the doctor who came over and suspected arsenic poisoning. In view of my sister's weakened condition along with the fact that she had absorbed so much of the arsenic before her stomach could reject it, she couldn't pull through. By 11:30 that morning, she was dead."

Jackie had thinned her lips and more tears began welling up in her eyes.

"Was Wesley Wright present in the house?" Mike asked.

"You bet he was!" Jackie wiped the last of her tears, "and I know he was the one who poisoned her!"

"The only problem with that logic, "Mike stated, "is that according to everything we know about their marriage, Elizabeth Wright would never allow Wesley Wright close enough access to her in order for him to administer the pills."

"During my bathroom or breakfast break, he could have easily gone in and slipped my sister some arsenic pills!" suggested Jackie, until she saw their expression, "Yeah, I can tell that the two of you, like the police, don't believe me either. That I had an easier access to give the pills to Liz. _But I didn't kill her."_

"The problem with the theory of Wesley Wright sneaking in to give her the pills is just too risky," Connie said, "he had no way of knowing when you'd be back...and what if Elizabeth Wright had waken up when he had entered?"

Jackie sighed, "I know...but," she looked hopeful, "all I know is that I didn't kill her. You MUST believe that he was somehow involved in the murder. _Please!"_

Connie didn't want to give false hope, so she responded with, "We're still investigating that possibility, Ms. Remington."

.

It was a calm, clear night. The stars were blazing down steadily, but it paled into insignificance from New York City's street lights.

Mike and Connie were in his office well past working hours. An opened flat box of pizza laid in the middle of the desk between them, two slices left.

Connie was thinking how nice it was to spend some quiet time alone in the solitude of the office. It stood in sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of the daytime shift. Now it was unhurried and comfortable, the outside lights casting off a soft glow to his office.

She somehow became mesmerized by Mike's hands as he took a slice to put on his plate. Connie always knew that Mike held some kind of attraction for her from the first day he saw her at Macy's, but lately, images of him seemed to seep in her memory and she had to force herself to concentrate on the case.

"So if it were up to you on this case, whom would you prosecute?" Connie wanted to know as she took a sip of her drink.

Mike put down his piece of pizza after taking a bite, "If I told you, you would think I was being biased."

"So you think Wesley Wright is guilty for this murder despite no evidence of him even being in his wife's room?"

"Well, if he _did_ decide to kill her the same way he tried to seven years ago, " Mike remarked, "he would at least be guilty of stupidity. Let's start with that."

Connie smiled, once more telling herself to stop being fascinated with everything Mike said.

"So where do we go from here?" she asked.

"Wellll," Mike seemed to be thinking, "I see that the Jackie Remington's case is slated to begin tomorrow. Maybe as consultants we should sit in on the case and see how it goes. What do you think? How would you like to go with me and observe?"

By the pleased look on her face, one would think she was being asked out on a date.

"I would love to," Connie gushed.

.

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_Courtroom testimony next!_

_Please review_


	11. Chapter 11

A Day in Court

Chapter 11

The trial of the People of the State of New York City versus Jacqueline Remington continued with all the electric tension of a championship prized fight between two opponents who were confident in their abilities to win.

In one corner was prosecutor Bill Anderson, coming off a big win on his last case, anxious to prove that he should have been chosen as EADA and intent on making sure one day his ambitions will equal his dreams.

The defense side had in their corner Bayard Ellis, veteran courtroom strategist, also a strong advocate for civil rights.

Mike and Connie sat unobtrusively to watch the proceedings, yet they were aware of one another's presence. Mike could almost feel Connie's arm touching his while Connie tried hard to not glance down, knowing how close their thighs were.

A legal pad had been laying on Connie's lap. She jotted something quickly down and then tilted the page so that Mike could see it: _My stomach is grumbling._

A side of Mike's cheeks twitched. He then reached in the inside jacket pocket and pulled out a pen and in response, he wrote: _That explains it. I thought a bulldozer was in room._

Connie let out a cough to cover her chuckle.

Prosecutor Bill Anderson first called the housekeeper, Irene, to the stand. A thin, plain-looking woman in her early 30's, she testified that at approximately 6:45 in the morning, she had walked into Elizabeth's Wright's room just in time to see witness Jackie Remington giving the pills to Elizabeth, along with the words, 'here is your medicine'.

"So there was a time the defendant was basically alone with the victim and she could have easily had time to substitute the doctor's medicine for four deadly ones," said the Prosecutor.

"Objection," Ellis rose from his seat, "Counsel is testifying."

"Sustained," the Judge ruled.

Neither side conceded.

.

Next up, Dr. Thomas Avery was called to the stand, the Wright's private physician.

"What medication had you been prescribing to Elizabeth Wright, doctor?" ADA Anderson questioned.

"I was treating Elizabeth Wright for a nervous condition brought on by her spinal injury," the doctor stated, "the medication was a combination of acetylsalicylic acid and Phenobarbital, which is basically aspirin with a sedative. Each week I would lessen the dosage so the patient would not become addictive to the medication."

Anderson nodded and then proceeded to question the doctor regarding that fatal night.

The doctor testified that on her morning of Sept. 17th he was summoned to the Wright's residence and saw symptoms of arsenic poisoning with Elizabeth Wright.

"The poisoning had manifested itself in a gastro-enteric disturbance," Dr. Avery testified, "this included an intense thirst, painful cramps, feeble irregular pulse and cold and clammy skin."

"Was the patient conscious?" Anderson asked the doctor.

"Yes, she was conscious until approximately 11 o'clock am," Dr. Avery testified, "and the symptoms I witnessed were so typical that I was certain of my diagnosis of arsenic poisoning within the first few minutes of the time of my arrival."

"Did you have any conversation with Elizabeth Wright in regards to how she was dying?"

"Objection! Heresay!" defense lawyer Ellis, making a big show of slowly standing, "What Ms. Wright _might_ have said to Dr. Avery cannot be substantiated!"

"...surely Mr. Ellis is joking!" Anderson looked upset, "the so-called _witness_ to this conversation would be the deceased victim, Elizabeth Wright, who obviously is unavailable to testify!"

"...AND information that cannot be verified is the very _definition_ of _heresay_, Your Honor!" Ellis quickly interjected.

The judge considered, "Sustained."

Bill Anderson looked frustrated. At the judge's ruling, Connie jotted down something on her legal pad: _Should have argued deathbed declaration._

Mike nodded in agreement. Then he wrote down: _Still not too late_.

And before Connie could react, Mike then reached over and ripped a random page out of legal pad.

SSSSSSZZZZZZZ!

The unexpected loud sound in the quiet courtroom caused everyone to turn in Mike's direction.

"Who made that grating noise in MY courtroom?" the Judge snapped, quickly peering over towards the gallery.

Mike cleared his throat as he stood from where he sat in the gallery, "Mike Cutter for the prosecution, Your Honor."

The Judge did not look pleased.

"I do not appreciate interruptions in my courtroom, especially coming from either the prosecution OR defense side!" he sternly stated, while Bill Anderson glared angrily at Mike.

"I apologize, Your Honor," Mike sounded sincere, "I will not interrupt again..." he now looked pointedly at Bill Anderson, "I promise you that..._on my deathbed_."

"Your Honor!" Ellis shot up, indignant.

"Calm down, Mr. Ellis! "the Judge looked annoyed, and then turned to Mike "I've previously heard of your underhanded antics in the courtroom, Mr. Cutter, and believe me, I will not allow them in _my_ court. One more interruption from you and I will have my Bailiff escort you out IMMEDIATELY. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear," Mike said as he sat down, but not before he saw the look of understanding in Bill Anderson's eyes.

The Judge looked at Bill Anderson, "Continue."

"Dr. Avery," asked the prosecutor, "What was the patient's frame of mind when you were called to examine her at 10:45 am that morning?"

"Scared and desperate," the doctor surmised.

"Did you have any conversation with Elizabeth Wright as to how she was dying?" Anderson asked again.

Ellis stood, looking thoroughly indignant.

"Your Honor!" he cried out, "We had already discussed that Mr. Anderson cannot divulge testimony that is heresay!"

"...Unless it was a _dying declaration_," Anderson pointed out, "and the doctor had earlier pointed out that Mrs. Wright had died just that morning. So it _was_ a _deathbed_ declaration!"

Anderson then silently nodded a thanks over to Mike.

The Judge had no choice but to reverse his ruling.

"Overruled," he stated, although he did caution, "You've managed to get your question in, Mr. Anderson...although I don't appreciate the method the prosecution used to get there!"

The Judge made a point to stare down Mike.

Anderson looked contrite, "I promise to stay on the straight and narrow, Your Honor."

"Proceed, then!" the Judge blustered as Anderson turned to his witness.

"Please tell us your last conversation with the victim, Elizabeth Wright, Doctor," Anderson encouraged.

"It was very short, actually," the Doctor said, looking quite sad, "before she passed out, Elizabeth Wright managed to declare, ' _I've been poisoned!'._"

The entire courtroom erupted, causing the Judge to bang his gavel_._Bill Anderson looked pleased with the doctor's declaration and waited for the commotion to die down.

"Now, Dr. Avery," Anderson was looking confident now, "when Elizabeth Wright declared, _'I was poisoned'_, were those her _exac_t words?"

"Yes"

Anderson smiled triumphantly, " No further questions."

He strode happily back to the prosecution table.

Connie had written on the pad: _False sense of security._

Mike added with his pen: _Somehow Ellis will hang this witness out to dry..._

Connie wrote back_...Know of a good place to eat?_

Mike grinned.

Meanwhile, Bayard Ellis was already questioning the witness.

"...so, Dr. Avery, is it your opinion that Elizabeth Wright knew she was dying?" Ellis inquired.

"By stating those words, she MUST have known," Dr. Avery said sarcastically.

Ellis looked stern, "A 'yes' or 'no' will suffice, Doctor!"

The doctor looked bored, "Then, yes."

"And according to you, Dr. Avery, " Ellis announced, "Elizabeth Wright had stated a dying declaration of, "_I've been poisoned_". Is it your habit to remember the _precise_ words of _all_ your patients, Doctor? After all, you probably see almost one hundred patients a week."

"Well, of course I can't remember exact words of ALL my patients..." the doctor admitted, "_but_...it's not every day a person utters _those_ words, and since Elizabeth Wright was actually dying, I knew I needed to remember everything that had occurred that night."

"And you're absolutely _positive_ that Ms. Wright uttered those exact three words, _I've been poisoned_, is that correct?" Ellis inquired.

"Yes," Dr. Avery verified, "I knew I would be called as a witness and of course the defense lawyer would try and twist my words around, so I made sure to remember the _exact_ words."

The gallery snickered.

From the Prosecutor's table, Bill Anderson was beaming. His witness was holding up well.

"I see," Ellis didn't look amused at all, "And when did Elizabeth Wright make this statement?"

The doctor shrugged, "It was just before 11:20 am."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I looked at my watch."

"Alright, then, let's go back a bit to when you had first arrived at the Wright's residence that night," Ellis said, "I think, Doctor, it would be safe to assume that when you had arrived at the house on that fatal day, that at some point you must have asked how she was feeling, is that correct?"

"Yes, of course."

"When did you ask her that question?" Ellis looked interested.

The doctor looked confused, "When? As in _what time_? I don't know...is that important?"

"**_I _**ask the questions, Dr. Avery, " Ellis reprimanded him, "So did you ask about her condition _before _Elizabeth Wright said she was poisoned or _after?"_

Dr. Avery shrugged, "I couldn't say exactly. I mean I could have even asked her that question before AND afterwards, since that night she was deteriorating so quickly..."

"So, in other words, you actually didn't remember clearly _everything_ that was said that night," Ellis pointed said.

"I never said that!" Dr. Avery looked indignant, "And maybe I couldn't tell you the exact time and order of all the words spoken that night because I was too busy attempting to save_ her life!_"

He received no empathy from Ellis.

"So in conclusion," the defense lawyer surmised assuredly, "on the day Elizabeth Wright died, you were very clear on _some_ matters and yet _hazy_ on others, although everything occurred within, oh let's say, half an hour from one another."

The doctor looked completely baffled.

So Ellis continued, "therefore, at the time you've asked how the patient was feeling, she had not yet made a statement to you indicating that she had been poisoned. Or was it the other way around... that she had been poisoned and _then_ you asked how was she feeling, _or _there's even a THIRD possibility, that you asked her how she was doing before AND after she had stated she had been poisoned. I apologize for being in such a confused state, but you hadn't made your testimony clear. So which way is it, Doctor?"

Connie wrote on the legal pad: _Confusion._

Mike kiddingly followed up with: _You or the witness?_

Connie scribbled back, _Yes._

"Objection!" bellowed Anderson as he stood, "badgering the witness!"

"Overruled," the Judge determined.

The doctor was still speechless, looking overwhelmed by the questions.

"Dr. Avery?" Ellis inquired with a smug expression on his face, "We're all waiting for your explanation."

The doctor looked indignant, "I have answered all your questions the best I know how!"

Ellis responded sardonically, "No, you didn't, Dr. Avery, but the Defense truly appreciates your effort. No further questions."

Bayard Ellis had a triumphant look as he walked back to his table.

Mike scribbled on the legal pad regarding Bayard Ellis, "_Told you_. _The doctor was_ p_ut in the dryer_ _AND_ h_ung out to dry_._"_

.

.

An hour later, Mike and Connie had returned back to the office after getting a quick bite. Jack was waiting for them in Mike's office.

"Jack," Mike greeted him, "if I had known you were here, I would have brought you back a gourmet hot dog from the cart."

From Jack's expression, it was obvious he was not in the mood to jest.

"Hmmph!" Jack guffawed, "Speaking of which...I just heard that Bill Anderson's_hot dog_ was roasted in court today."

_"Ouch."_ Mike reacted.

"Well," Connie tried to soften the blow, "Bayard Ellis _does_ have a stellar reputation as a brilliant lawyer."

"Which is why I've reassigned Bill to another case," Jack decided, "he looked so beaten after these two days in court, I don't know if he can make it through to the end of the case."

"You're going to let Anderson give up just like that?" Mike asked, his eyebrows raised, "the case isn't lost yet. Maybe what he needs is some advice and encouragement."

"If Anderson needs advice and encouragement, he has a mother for that!" Jack snapped, as Mike and Connie exchanged knowing looks, "and let me tell you another thing...losing is only acceptable if it is happening to someone else!"

"And what reason are you going to give for Anderson's recusal?" Connie asked.

Jack was prepared.

"Turns out that Bill Anderson's second cousin has stock in Remington shipping industries," Jack explained, " And as you know, any attorney with a personal financial interest in the opposing side will need to recuse himself from a case."

"Really?" Mike asked, "A second cousin? _That'_s your story and you're sticking to it?"

"Like glue." Jack didn't even blink.

"So what happens to the case?" Connie asked, although she knew the answer.

"It will now be given to the second string," Jack declared as he now reached over and handed them a thick file, "So get off the consulting bench and get to work!"

.

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(A/N: Special birthday wishes go out to MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul!)

_Please review_


	12. Chapter 12

A Wish

_(I'm changing the tone a bit for this chapter only!)_

Chapter 12

Central Park is a welcome oasis in the chaotic city that never sleeps. Featuring lush greenery, peaceful ponds and historical statues, this haven was perfect for people who need to take a break from life's hectic pace.

In one part of the park is a section known as The Mall, a wide boulevard lined with American elm trees, highlighted by the Bethesda Fountain. Mike and Connie were strolling through this area before they went back to the office, so that they could discuss the case without office interruptions. It was a perfect New York City park day as they walked down the tree-lined pathway, the shadows falling in and out between them.

"So instead of spectators in the courtroom, we are now the lead prosecutors," Connie stated, her heels clicking as she walked in tandem with Mike.

"Like Wiley Coyote in the _Road Runner_ series, this case seemed to have fallen right on top of us," Mike lightly remarked.

"So are we the anvil or the coyote?" Connie asked lightly as Mike grinned.

"When it comes to this case, I'd rather be the quick thinking Road Runner instead," he countered.

As they continued walking, Mike and Connie could see the flowering trees lining both sides of the pathway, provided minimal shade from the sunny day. Off to the side on the grassy area bloomed African daisies, asters, chrysanthemums and daylilies, all of various shades of bright spring colors.

Connie smiled at a memory, "Remember a conversation we had seven years ago where you were discussing some of your early cases? You had told me some of the blunders you'd made when asking questions to some of your witnesses."

"Yes, and I thank you for that embarrassing reminder," Mike stated dryly, as two joggers past them.

"Well... you're not the _only_ one who's bungled it in court before, you know," Connie claimed.

"Noooo...you mean _you_? Perfect you?" Mike looked astounded.

"Mike, I never said I was perfect," Connie corrected, "after all, one of the most valuable things you can make is a mistake...you can't learn anything from being perfect."

"If you truly believe that, " Mike tempted, "let me hear a time when you've inadvertently asked a ridiculous question of a witness on the stand."

"...I can do that, " Connie assured him, "one time I had taken over for Jack in questioning one of his witnesses _and _the first question I blurted out was, "So, Ms. DuBois, how long have you been a French Canadian?"

"Oh, I like that!" Mike snickered, "I bet you could hear gasps from one end of the room to the other!"

"Loud and clear!" Connie agreed, "In fact, I think I let out a gasp_ first. _Everyone else was too busy looking at me slack-jawed!"

Mike was enjoying this.

"You've got any other flubs for me?" he inquired, "because one mistake would still make you semi-perfect."

"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" Connie thought a little more, "come to think of it, that wasn't the only gaffe I made with that one particular witness, oh nooo, _not_ by a mile!" she acknowledged with a smile, "A little while later, I then asked, "You were present in the room until you _left it,_ is that correct?" later followed by, "So you claim the attacker had a beard? Was the attacker male or female?"

The last one made him chuckle, "What this tells me, Connie, is that in regards to the Remington-Wright case, perhaps it would be better if _**I**_ be the one doing ALL the questioning!"

Connie looked askance at him, while stating sarcastically, "Oh, I don't know, my method of questioning would be greatly appreciated by the _defense_!"

They were having a grand time.

After covering quite a distance, they at last reached the Bethesda Fountain, the definitive crown jewel of Central Park. Located on the lower level of Bethesda Terrace, the water fountain featured a neoclassical winged angel holding a lily, the symbol of purity.

They heard the refreshing sounds of running water as they approached. Standing at the edge of the granite structure, they both leaned over the edge of the fountain, noticing the different sized coins glistening at the bottom, hopeful reminders that there is hope in wishing.

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter.

"Care to make a wish?" he gallantly asked her as he held out the coin to her, "And not a penny wish, either. Here's your opportunity for a big one!"

Smiling, she grasp the coin in her hand, liking the warmth of it from when Mike previously held it.

"I'm never one to turn a wish down!" she remarked.

He gestured towards the fountain with his head, "Go ahead then; toss and wish!"

"Slow down, Cowboy," she teased, "It's not that simple. Making a wish in a fountain isn't just a matter of toss and wish- there's a method to the wishing well madness, Mike."

He raised both brows and pretended to be shocked.

"You don't say!...So there's a method behind Wish Fulfillment Central?" he inquired, "does it involve Leprechauns, unicorns or rainbows?"

Connie laughed and that made Mike's heart soar.

"Not quite so elaborate, I'm afraid," she explained, "Although there _are_ requirements! First thing you must remember if you want to properly have a wish fulfilled is that it is one person , one wish, per fountain."

"Alright," Mike acknowledged, "I get that. And you're the designated wisher. So do you think your wish will involve something regarding the case?"

"Oh myyyy," Connie pretended to look stunned, "You've just jinxed that wish for me! One must _never_ state a wish out loud! I am now forced to think up a different wish!"

"Me and my big mouth," Mike joked, "but at least now, I'll be able to eat a banana sideways!"

Connie laughed, "do you want to know how to properly make a wish or not?"

Mike pretended seriousness, "Rest assure that I do, my lady."

"Alright, then, continuing on to the second step," she explained, "as the person tosses the coin in, he or she must WAIT until the water stops rippling. Finally, then and _only_ then. can a wish be made. If all the rules are followed, the wish will be fulfilled at a later time."

"I think the birthday cake method of wishing on candles is a lot easier," Mike jested, "This one needs to come with an instruction manual!"

Her mouth upturned into a smile as she displayed the quarter for him to see, "Mike, you'll have to do it right or your wish may not come true."

"Then by all means, please proceed," Mike invited, "although I don't think you need to go through all this rigmarole to believe in dreams coming true."

Connie didn't know if he was kidding or now. Did Mike the cynic actually mention believing in dreams coming true? That was so unlike him. She looked at him in apparent confusion and for a split second, she could only hear the vulnerable sound of her breathing, for he didn't elaborate and his expression appeared quietly solemn.

"Well.." she said unsteadily, "I suppose I should make my wish now."

"Be sure not to wish about the case," he reminded her, "for if I recall correctly, we've been jinxed."

She looked puzzled, "Then I'm not sure what to wish for."

Mike's voice was almost a near-whisper, "Make the wish about you."

He certainly wasn't acting like himself. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then faced the revered Angel of the Water fountain.

Forcing herself to push aside all thoughts of Mike, she instead focused on the fountain itself. She had passed by this area many times and never had it looked so... romantic before. Surrounded by the lovely trees and flowers on a perfect spring day, Connie was determined she would make a true wish.

"Connie?" Mike gentle voice floated into her consciousness.

She hadn't realized how much time she was taking. She felt unaccountably awkward about being caught daydreaming, but when she turned and looked at him, Connie's spirits suddenly felt bold and uplifted. Then slowly turning back to face the fountain, she tossed the coin.

The shiny item curved and tumbled up in the air before making a small splash on the wet surface. After the initial burst into the water, it then slowly floated down to the bottom of the fountain while at the same time, ringlets of water began to form on top of the water.

The ringlets of water reverberated where the coin had fallen, the ripples slowly getting larger yet softer.

_It was now time for the wishing part._

Connie closed her eyes, and wished for the first thing that came to her mind.

_I wish to be happy..._

She opened her eyes and looked over at the spot where she had last seen the coin. The rippling effect of the water in the fountain had stopped and although her image was slightly wavy on the water's surface, Connie's throat caught at the vivid image she saw in the water's reflection.

_As in an answer, the waters showed her the reflection of Mike._

Turning his way, she was suddenly unnerved by his nearness. He was already watching her, his emotions difficult to read. Yet standing next to him, she felt a pang of yearning inside of her.

Her internal thoughts clearly showed in her eyes and Mike suddenly experienced a painful ache in his own heart. He leaned in and seemed encouraged when she did not step away.

"Connie..." he seemed to say her name in reverence, "I hope your wish comes true."

For a moment in time, they stared at each other in helpless fascination.

Connie knew it was not emotionally safe to have Mike standing so close to her. From the first day she met him, Mike has had the oddest effect on her. But today he made her heart slam against her ribs and her pulse quicken. Shocked by the sensations that seemed to be ricocheting throughout her body, she forced herself to turn away, looking past the fountain, off to the distance.

"I.." she swallowed hard, still looking straight ahead, "I'm not sure tossing a coin into a fountain affects anything, much less making a dream come true..the idea is actually ludicrous when you think about it...it's definitely been...a very strange day..."

Mike looked her way, but she averted his eyes, and a frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Yes, perhaps you're right, too..." he said, feeling utterly confused.

He watched her lovely profile. Though he enjoyed every single working day with her, sometimes he wished he could turn back the time and actually be that department store salesperson and she would be that shopper. At least in that scenario, he would not be her boss and ...their relationship might have turned out differently.

The sound of the sparkling running waters of the fountain brought him back to the present. Perhaps it was being surrounded by nature's beauty that brought out the sentimental side in Connie today, Mike concluded. He was too much of a realist to think that their personal relationship was anything but one sided. Which was fine for him.

Like he told Jack, he would never get personally involved with a colleague.

He stole a furtive glance over at Connie.

_Even if it's a colleague who not only caught his eye, but his heart as well._

Mike now checked his watch, "Perhaps we should get back to the office. We have a lot of prep work to do if we are expected to try a case in two days. I have a feeling it's going to be a very busy two days."

Connie took a deep breath in and when she turned to him, her eyes had a very determined, businesslike look about them. She knew the reflection of him in the fountain waters would haunt her, so she prepared herself that whenever that image would come upon her, she would have to just push it aside. Forever.

"You're right, Mike...we've got a lot of work to do."

.

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_Back to the case next chapter as Mike and Connie do their own investigating!_

_Please review_


	13. Chapter 13

Getting closer

Chapter 13

Mike was in the office early in the morning. He was tapping his pencil, but he wasn't even aware of it. He was thinking about that tiny space of time yesterday, when Connie had looked at him...but not as a co-worker. He wanted to think that she saw him differently...yet a part of him was afraid to go in that direction.

"Mike?"

Connie appeared at the doorway, and Mike at last realized that he had been drumming his pencil. Placing it on his desk, he banked his thoughts as he greeted her with a smile.

"Come on in," he said, as she took a seat.

"I just thought of something last night, regarding the case," Connie began.

"That's great," he said, "because I was _just_ debating what direction to take this case."

And he was good at lying, too, for obviously he had not been thinking about the case at all.

Of course Connie also didn't mention that last night she had also been thinking of him as she tossed and turned in bed, either.

"Okay, this is more in line with investigating Wesley Wright, " she began, "but it's important that we completely clear him as a suspect."

"I doubt if you can ever convince me that he is innocent," Mike said, "but go on, I'm listening."

"Remember the first day you met Jenny Lupo, she told us that Wesley Wright had a girlfriend?" she inquired, "Well, who would know more about Wesley Wright's and his motivations than his true love?"

She slightly blushed at the term, "true love".

"You know, " Mike sat up, "I like that angle! I've always felt Wesley Wright was somehow involved in his wife's murder and a girlfriend could give us a good insight on what makes Wesley Wright tick." He looked away, trying to recall something he heard seven years ago, "What the hell was that girlfriend's name? Mary? No! But close...Marcy...yes! That's it!...Marcy something or other..."

"...Valentine..." Connie filled in and added when Mike looked surprised, "Women would remember a last name like that."

He lifted his brows, "So what are we waiting for?"

She smiled, "I guess we're waiting for her address, and I'm about to get it!"

Mike rotated his computer to face her. Connie's fingers instantly flew over the keyboards. As he watched her intently typing he once again was struck by her efficiency along with her elegance and intelligence.

At last she looked up, pleased, "I've got it!"

.

It was still early morning when Mike, with Connie by his side, had knocked on the apartment door of Marcy Valentine. She lived on the East village side of town, considered the poor man's Greenwich Village.

From the half- inch crack under the door, Mike and Connie could see a ribbon of light through the crack, could see a moving shadow before it stopped. This time Connie rapped on the door. The shadow on the other side of the door moved a few inches. The sound of the knob could be heard as the door opened, although the bolt was still attached.

They caught a quick glance of Marcy Valentine. a young blonde in her late 30's. Wearing a tank top and shorts, she stood on the threshold.

"Yeah?" she asked, uninterested.

"We're from the DA's office," Mike shined his badge, "This is Connie Rubirosa and I'm Mike Cutter. If you don't mind, we have a few questions regarding Wesley Wright."

"Never heard of him," she said as she started to shut the door. Mike pushed on the door, not allowing her to shut it all the way.

"Wait! Ms. Valentine!" Mike insisted, "Just give us a few minutes and if we are convinced you don't know Mr. Wright, I promise you'll never hear from us again."

"Go away! I have to time!" She continued to push on the door.

"...talk to us now, Ms. Valentine," Connie warned, "otherwise, the next time we come back, we'll bringing detectives..."

They heard a heavy sigh coming from the other side.

"Hold on and I'll unlock the door," Marcy said reluctantly.

She then half-closed the door, and they next heard the chain being removed before she opened the door wide, "Just make it quick, I don't have a lot of time," she stated impatiently as she opened the door a little wider for them.

After entering, Mike and Connie sat on a worn down sofa, while Marcy was seated across from them in a chair. She did not offer them refreshments.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us, Ms. Valentine," Connie stated politely.

"Like I was saying, " Marcy repeated, "I never heard of no Wesley Knight, so you're probably wasting your time."

"His name is Wright; Wesley _Wright,_" corrected Mike, "so you're saying you've never met him."

"How many times do I have to say it?" she sat back and glared at them, "Nooo!"

"And does that mean you also are not familiar with Elizabeth Wright?" Connie questioned.

"You must have me confused with someone else," she stated, "I don't know this...this Elizabeth Knight, that you speak of, either!"

"Calling it _Knight_ the first time was a good act," Mike slightly nettled, "but the second time feels contrived. "

Marcy Valentine folded her arms, disinterested, "Whatever..."

"She was poisoned, you know," Mike added, "and by _'she'_, I'm referring to Elizabeth Wright."

That got Marcy's attention. She unfolded her arms and looked directly at them, her eyes round like saucers, "_Poisoned?"_

"Yes," stated Connie.

"Is she...?"

"She dead," Mike confirmed.

Marcy looked shocked and then concerned.

"Did she die by sleeping pills?" she inquired.

Connie looked suspiciously at Marcy, "That's rather a strange question to ask, isn't it, Ms. Valentine?"

"I'm just curious, is all," Marcy seemed anxious, "So, did the woman commit suicide with pills or what?"

"Well, being that you claim to not even _know_ the Wrights, I really don't understand your interest in this matter," Mike baited her as he began to stand and Connie reading his cue, also started to rise, "but I thank you for your time, Ms. Valentine..."

Marcy looked distressed.

"Wait, don't go yet!" she sharply called them back.

They paused and sat back down.

"I'm just curious about what happened to this poor woman...this Elizabeth Wright...that's her name, right?" Marcy asked, "Who gave her the...I mean, what happened?"

"Why do you even care, if you don't know her or her husband, Ms. Valentine?" asked Mike skeptically.

After thinking it over, Marcy's shoulders slumped and she finally relented.

"O-_kay_...what do you want to know?"

"Your connection to Wesley Wright," Connie said.

"Wesley Wright?" Marcy repeated, "I'm not sure I can tell you much. I-I barely know the man."

"You need to be truthful with us, Ms. Valentine or we are wasting each other's time," Mike challenged.

Marcy thinned her lips.

She hated to admit the truth to them, yet her curiosity overwhelmed her.

"Oh, you said Wesley _Wright_, didn't you?" she acted like she had an epiphany, "The name _does_ sound familiar to me! As it turns out, I actually DID know him, I knew him pretty well, in fact..." she nervously tossed her hair over her shoulder, "_but._..my 'meetings' with him ended _years_ ago. I haven't seen him in a very long time."

"Perhaps you should back up your story to when you first met him," Connie suggested.

"Well," Marcy recalled, " I met Wesley Wright... maybe, hmmm...eight ago? Back then he was different. He knew how to treat a girl, you know what I'm saying? Gave me money and jewelry..."

Mike perked up.

"Jewelry?" he repeated, "he gave you _jewelry_?"

"Tons," she claimed, "pretty little diamond things, lots of gold, some with colored stones. I have to say, though, some of the styles were old fashioned, but he _is_ older than me, so...I just figured...as long as they were expensive..."

Mike and Connie exchanged furtive looks.

_They can now guess what happened to all that missing jewelry from seven years ago when Wesley Wright tried to pin the robbery on Jenny Lupo._

"So if you were showered with gifts and things were so good between the two of you during that time," Connie asked, "what ended this perfect little arrangement?"

"His wife did, the one Wesley wouldn't divorce because he liked his high-falutin' lifestyle," Marcy squelched her face in distaste.

"So the wife was giving Wesley a hard time about him seeing you?" Mike asked.

Marcy shrugged, "Not too sure about that, but I knew she was aware of our little affair. Turns out, Elizabeth had found my 'love' emails that I used to send to Wes. He had been a _fool_ not to delete those emails! But that's him, a stupid romantic! Anyway, according to him, Elizabeth had them printed out to be used as 'leverage' in case of a divorce. This was before she had that car accident that left her bedridden."

"So did it bother _you_ that his wife knew about the affair, Ms. Valentine?" Connie inquired.

"No, not really," Marcy admitted, "Actually, I was glad it was out in the open. But not Wesley! No way! Turns out he liked it the way it was with him staying with old crippled Moneybags while keeping me on the side. So once I came to my senses, I kicked his sorry butt to the curb!"

"And did Wesley Wright ever get those emails back?" Mike questioned.

Marcy peered questionably at Mike, as if she were debating whether to tell him something.

"I suppose he eventually got them back," she answered, "because one day out of blue, Wesley called me and told me he finally found the emails without his wife's knowledge. I told him to burn them, and I assumed that's what he did, but who knows what he did?" she now gave them a satisfied smile, "all I have to say now is, good riddance to the letters and good riddance to _him_!"

.

.

Back in the office, Mike and Connie discussed the case.

"I think that visit with Marcy Valentine was well worth it," Connie commented, "Thanks to her, we know what happened to the supposedly stolen jewelry of Elizabeth Wright's. All along, Wesley Wright was the culprit in stealing the jewelry. And to think it's been left unsolved for seven years!"

"You have to remember that back then, our job was _not_ to find the guilty party," Mike told her, "instead, as one-time defense lawyers, we just needed to find our client innocent."

"Unfortunately," Connie reminded him, "the statue of limitation for theft is five years. So even if Marcy Valentine would be willing to surrender the jewelry back to us to be used against Wright, we wouldn't be able to prosecute him."

"I'm willing to let the theft go," Mike announced, "because that's not what I want to find Wesley Wright guilty of. I still think he was involved in the murder of his wife."

"Except there's no evidence that he is involved in anyway," Connie looked askance at him, "but with what you've just stated, Mike, I'm more convinced than ever that you _do_ have a personal vendetta against Wesley Wright..."

Mike looked nonchalant, "I feel it's my duty to lock up murderous douche-bags."

"You've seem to have forgotten that the DA's office is already prosecuting _Jackie Remington_ for the _murder_ of her sister," warned Connie, "...so you better be sure it's Wesley Wright who is guilty of the murder of his wife before we go after him."

"Well, Ms. Valentine just confirmed to us that Wesley Wright is the killer," Mike said confidently.

Connie looked unsure.

"Why? Just because Wesley Wright is a jewelry thief?" she asked.

"No, it was something else Marcy Valentine had told us," Mike said, "She had stated that Elizabeth Wright had discovered her husband's affair through the emails and had printed them out, correct?"

"Yes, I remembered that," Connie stated, "And?"

"And..." Mike's eyes seemed to dance with excitement, "it stands to reason that due to Mrs. Wright's disability, she must have kept the printed emails nearby, probably in her room, right?"

"Go on," Connie encouraged.

"_So_... he reasoned, "Marcy Valentine had stated that he eventually got possession of the emails back. Therefore if Wesley Wright had retrieved them, it stands to reason that he had been in _his wife's_ _room_ more than once, when supposedly he was _never allowed in there_."

Connie's eyes sparkled with new admiration for him.

"You're _right,_ Mike," Connie smiled at his reasoning, "Wright's a sneaky one alright."

"Nothing compared to us, though," Mike assessed with a grin, "So let's go and wreck havoc in the courtroom!"

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_Please review_

_Back to the courtroom next chapter!_


	14. Chapter 14

Prep Work

Chapter 14

It was the day of court.

Mike was walking out of his office, briefcase in hand. The DA's office was still quite empty, being the earliest of hours. He looked around and his heart caught in his throat as he saw Connie walking towards her office. Instead of the tight, constricting suits that most female attorneys wore, she looked stunningly feminine wearing a shapely black jacket tied at the waist with a flared skirt. When she caught sight of him, she smiled and approached him.

"Hi Mike. Are you heading somewhere before court?" she asked.

"I just planned to go down to the local coffeehouse for some breakfast," Mike replied. Hesitating slightly, he added, "Care to join me?

He held his breath as she seemed to be debating, but at last she smiled at him and responded with a, "I'd love to."

As they walked down the hallway, they saw Jack arriving.

"Good to see the two of you here so bright and early!" Jack's voice seemed to boom across the hallway amid the quietness of the office as he stopped in front of them, "What are you two discussing?"

"The usual," Mike jested, "Monster truck driving at the Alamodome and such. You know how excited Connie gets about that kind of talk."

Connie grinned, "What can I say? I'm a sucker for dirt."

"Hmmph!" Jack guffawed, "Sarcasm, so early in the morning" He shook his head and then added, "I like it!"

.

Mike and Connie had just placed their order at their favorite coffeehouse. Occasionally they would meet up here to talk about work, but somehow it felt different ever since that day Connie made a wish at the Belvedere water fountain.

Yet they tried to act as if nothing had changed.

"So, Mike, are you pretty clear on the timeline leading up to Elizabeth's death?" Connie asked him, trying to maintain the normalcy of their working relationship.

"Remember in the car coming here when you saw me in deep contemplation?" Mike asked her.

"Yes?"

"That was me thinking about what I wanted to order for breakfast," he responded straight-faced.

Connie laughed.

Though not exactly a charmer, there was something about Mike that Connie found so irresistible, that made his company so enjoyable. After his jesting remark, his expression became serious.

"I read the complete file last night," Mike said, "and it seems someone had switched the four tablets the doctor had prescribed and thrown them in the neighbor's trash. CSU confirmed those four recovered pills were phenobarbital and acetylsalicylic acid pills."

"Which further supports your theory that Wesley Wright killed his wife."

"If the poison pill fits..." Mike's voice trailed off.

"I also have something to contribute," began Connie, "even though I didn't have the case file in front of me, I've been thinking about this case last night."

Mike looked at her with admiration, "A sleepless night for you, too?"

"Oh no, I slept like a log actually."

He smiled, "If you supposedly slept like a log, just be happy you didn't wake up in a fireplace..."

"Oh _my_," Connie put the back of her hand to her forehead, pretending to be swooning in a teasing way, "...I feel faint...such clever bantering so early in the morning- without coffee no less!"

Mike looked around, "Speaking of which, I could really do with some coffee just about now," he said as he gestured to the waitress.

The waitress came over and poured mugs for both Mike and Connie before walking away again.

"Do you smell that?" Mike asked, referring to the aroma from the coffee, "Nothing smells better than fresh brewed heaven!"

"I know what you mean," Connie shot back, "If coffee were a perfume, I'd be wearing it now!"

Mike took a sip of the coffee and knew he was enjoying Connie's company too much, "Getting back to the case," he reluctantly stated, "Did you figure out anything regarding the case in your log-induced sleep?"

"Yes, actually," Connie stated, "It started me thinking about the night seven years ago when Wesley Wright tried to have Jenny Lupo give his wife those four white pills."

"Didn't we already reach a conclusion with that one seven years ago?" Mike asked, surprised she was going back that far, "They turned out to be harmless-they were merely aspirins."

"That was something that had always bothered me," Connie stated, "Why would Wesley Wright go through all the trouble requesting Jenny give his wife four harmless aspirins?"

"Does it really matter NOW?" Mike asked.

"I'm just thinking out loud," Connie rebounded, "Remember, he was willing to pay Jenny Lupo five thousand dollars to perform the deed!"

"Yes, I know, it had gnawed at me back then, too," Mike said, as he slowly shook his head, "but that was seven years ago. Sometimes we just have to move on."

She looked directly at him, "But now I have a theory about that pill we had tested," she simply stated.

Mike sat up, intrigued, "Really? So what's your theory? That the lab made a mistake? Maybe the pill had been switched? Or perhaps Wright had one of the technicians in his back pocket?"

"None of those. I'm going to put my faith in the efficiency of the lab...no, I think that pill _was_ an aspirin..._but_ who's to say ALL the pills were aspirins?," Connie questioned, "we only had tested _one_ pill. Wesley Wright had supposedly given Jenny Lupo _four_ pills. Maybe...just maybe...two of those pills were aspirin and two of those were _other_ pills...it's a possibility, right?"

Mike gave that theory a thought, "You mean, two of those were aspirins and the other two were arsenic?"

"I thought of that, too, but, no, I don't think so," Connie stated, "Wesley Wright would have been a fool if he had tried to poison his wife during that time. He would have been our prime suspect, what with his separation from his wife and having a girlfriend and all. No, I don't think the other two pills were arsenic, either."

Mike was more confused than ever.

"What? So of the four pills, two of them were aspirin and the other two were... oh I don't know...white M & M's? Vitamins? What are you saying, Connie?"

"What I'm saying," Connie stated, "is sit back and enjoy your coffee, " she gave a smile, "it's a long explanation and I think the court proceedings should prove very interesting!"

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Court was in session.

Mike stood, "The people call Wesley Wright to the stand."

Wesley Wright came forward and was sworn in. Mike approached him, "Mr. Wright, you are the surviving husband of Elizabeth Wright, the decedent?"

"Yes, sir, I am, " he stated humbly, "and under the terms of the will, I did not inherit any part of her estate."

As Connie observed Wesley Wright's mannerism from where she sat at the prosecution table, she could tell that Wright had obviously been carefully prepared, thoroughly coached, and was enough of a public figure to take full advantage of the situation this time. It was evident that this was an entirely different Wesley Wright, unlike the one who had been completely combative with Mike many years ago in the Jenny Lupo theft trial.

"I did not ask you anything regarding that matter, Mr. Wright," Mike pointed out as he then turned to the Judge, "Witness is unresponsive; I'd like to treat Mr. Wright as hostile, Your Honor."

"So be it," the Judge nodded and then turning to Wright, "Please only answer what is asked, Mr. Wright."

Wright looked unruffled, "Begging your pardon, Your Honor." He then turned to look at Mike, giving away nothing in his expression.

"Did you love your wife, Mr. Wright?" Mike asked directly.

"Yes, of course, I loved her dearly," he said, his voice, dripping with sincerity.

"Are you familiar with someone named Marcy Valentine?"

Defense lawyer Bayard Ellis got ready to stand and object, but Wesley Wright put up his hand to let him know that he was willing to answer that question.

Wright turned and looked at the jurors straight in the eyes, then lowered his own eyes, and in a voice of shamefaced humility said, "In the past, I have been untrue to my wife, unfaithful to my marriage vows, and I regret it with every fiber of my being."

Mike nodded, relieved he didn't have to put Marcy Valentine on the stand, "When had this sordid affair taken place, Mr. Wright?"

"Objection!" Ellis stood.

"I'll reword," Mike said, "When did you start cheating, Mr. Wright?"

"Your Honor!" Ellis protested.

"Mr. Wright," Mike reworded again, "When did you start seeing Ms. Valentine in an intimate way?"

Wright shrugged, "The _love affair_ happened because I was _lonely_. It occurred maybe eight years ago, but I broke it off after two years. I haven't seen Ms. Valentine in six years."

"Do you know a Jenny Lupo from seven years ago?" Mike inquired.

Wright didn't look surprised and was still composed, "Heavens, I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying! I certainly did NOT have an affair with her! She was the night caretaker for my wife. That's _all!_ And I must admit that this is low of you, Mr. Cutter, if you are insinuating more!"

"Move to strike," Mike appealed to the Judge, "the witness is continually editorializing."

"Mr. Wright," the Judge stated, "Please keep your answers concise."

Wright nodded, "I apologize. I just resent Mr. Cutter implying that I had an affair with the night caretaker!"

"I'm not implying that at all, Mr. Wright," Mike assured him, "I merely wanted to verify that Ms. Lupo had been in your employment during that time as a night nurse...Is it a fact that on May of 2007, you had requested Jenny Lupo to administer four pills to your wife and that you were willing to pay her five thousand dollars for the deed? Bear in mind, Mr. Wright, that I have Jenny Lupo here, willing and able to testify."

If Mike expected a rise from the witness, he wasn't getting it. Wright shot one look at the gallery and then sat up taller, "Yes, I did propose to give her money if she would give four tablets to my wife. But I assure you, they were not poisoned pills, by any means."

Connie was getting worried. The jury was beginning to see Wright as a repentant husband and Mike as a courtroom bully. Mike better turn the table, and quick.

Mike looked stunned, "Why, I'm not implying that the pills were poisoned _at all_, Mr. Wright! In fact, according to Ms. Lupo, those pills were never administered to your wife. However, unbeknownst to you, Jenny Lupo had shown us the pills during that time, seven years ago, and we had our lab analyze what was in the medication," Mike added, implying that they had tested all four, when, in reality, they only had the lab results for one of the pills.

At last, Wright gave a look of surprise, "What? You had them analyzed?"

"We know the chemical makeup of the medication," Mike vaguely claimed, "So will you please tell the court what those four tablets contained?"

"They weren't poisonous," he stated again, "they were aspirins."

"But not _all_ of them," Mike was really taking a big chance here, "only TWO of them were aspirins. Now I do not want the court to force you to to answer truthfully, so tell us, Mr. Wright, what were those other two pills?"

From the prosecution table, Connie leaned in. She and Mike pretty much had figured out the contents of the pills and why Wright had planned to give them to Elizabeth Wright. And it wasn't to kill her.

The imagery of the _table turning_ actually entered Connie's mind.

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_(To the 'guest' who wanted me to finish the story: it's almost done, just hang on a few more chapters!)_

_Please review._


	15. Chapter 15

Reverse table turning

Chapter 15

Bayard Ellis now stood," Your Honor, I object to this entire line of questioning," he said, "What Mr. Cutter is referencing occurred almost a decade ago. I don't see how it has any bearing on this case, especially since these four aforementioned pills were never administered to Mrs. Wright."

The Judge turned to Mike, "Mr. Cutter?"

"It goes to motive, Your Honor," Mike declared, "Mr. Wesley had previously schemed against his wife by trying to convince someone to administe pills without her knowledge. He obviously attempted it again seven years later. The coincidence is uncanny and I plan to prove the connection."

"I'll give you a little leeway, Mr. Cutter, "The Judge warned as he looked over at the defense, "Overruled."

"So, Mr. Wright," began Mike, "during this time in 2007, you'd instructed Jenny Lupo to give four pills to your wife?"

Wright took a deep breath, "Yes."

"What was the nature of those tablets?"

"Aspirins! I told you that already!" he insisted.

Mike went over and stood right next to the witness stand.

"Isn't it true that only two of them were aspirins, and the other two were...barbiturates?"

Wright sucked in his breath as Connie encouraged Mike with a nod.

"Mr. Wright?"

"Alright, yes," he admitted, "so I gave her two barbiturates! What of it?"

"Barbiturates? Isn't that a fancy word for sleeping pills?" Mike defined, "And why would you want to give her such strong sedatives, Mr. Wright?"

"I just wanted my wife to...rest," he stated.

Mike managed to look incredulous, "But your wife was already resting comfortably in bed, with the best around-the-clock help possible; there would be no need for her to feel stressed...unless there was circumstances you haven't told us, Mr. Wright. What were they?"

Wright looked humbly at the jurors, "It's true my wife and I have been estranged back then. Please, you have to understand...we've been drifting apart and I was lonely and desperate...so yes, seven years ago I gave Jenny Lupo some pills to give to my wife without her knowledge, but I did it to put my marriage back together..."

"Move to strike," Mike interrupted, " Witness is unresponsive."

The Judge turned to Wright, "Please answer the question, Mr. Wright. Why did you want to give your wife those pills?"

Wright kept his eyes on the floor, "My wife had intercepted certain emails, which was proof of my infidelity," he claimed as he looked up now, his eyes pleading with the jurors, "She was planning to bring a suit for divorce. I didn't want this to happen. I loved her. My affair was just a fling. I didn't want a divorce."

"Again, Mr. Wright," Mike was getting impatient, "the heavy dose of barbiturates?"

Wright's eyes were large and innocent, "She wouldn't let me come in her room. But I needed to get in there and find those emails and destroy them. To save my marriage, mind you. I had originally planned to sneak in there when her sister went out on a break, but I feared Elizabeth might wake up and find me searching in her room. If she found me in her room, that would be disastrous."

"For _you_ it would be diasterous," corrected Mike.

Somehow Wright was able to make his eyes watery, "No, disastrous for our _marriage_."

Wright looked to be emotionally distraught and Mike was aware of the jurors softening looks. He felt the case was slipping away from him. Wright was looking like a martyr. Mike needed to keep the case on track.

"So eventually you were able to sneak in her room and retrieve those emails, is that right?" Mike asked.

"Yes, I was desperate, so even though she _wasn't_ drugged, I decided to take a chance..." Wright stated, sorrowfully, "I went in during the dead of the night when the night nurse was on a break. I got lucky because my wife was in a deep sleep and I found the emails and later burned them. But that happened seven years ago. Since then I have been loyal to her. You know I have been, Mr. Cutter. Check your records. My dear wife meant everything to me!"

He looked humbled and miserable. When Connie looked over at the jury box, she could see some of the jurors giving Wright a sympathetic look over the lost of his wife. So much for the tables turning. This was not good, not good at all.

.

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It was past the end of the workday, with most workers gone. Mike was frustrated as he paced back and forth in his office, with Connie leaning against his desk, arms folded.

"I thought I had him!" Mike paced back and forth, "I was going in for a sneak attack and he comes out with that humble, repentant sinner's act. Even now, I could feel the jurors' cold stares on my back!"

"I can't believe it, either," voiced Connie, "the scumbag cheats on his wife, lies to her, later tries to kill her, and yet the jurors are emphasizing with _him._ Wright is a pig!"

Mike stopped pacing, "That's rather harsh, isn't it?" he asked, although his eyes were sparkling, "after all, pigs are considered by some as being gentle, intelligent, and sensitive."

Connie laughed outloud and it seemed to lighten the mood. With her back to his desk, she then unfolded her arms and used them to steady herself as while hoisting herself up to sit at the edge of his desk.

"Point taken," she smiled, before getting serious again, "So where do we go from here?"

But Mike was unable to absorb her words. He had become fascinated with the way she had finagled herself on his desk. His heart began beating faster when she then crossed her legs . There was also something so sensual yet endearing when she sat on his desk like that. It seemed like such an intimate gesture, as well as a display of how comfortable they had become around each other.

His intense gaze did not go unnoticed by Connie. There were times when Mike had this...this look of yearning in his eyes that made Connie's pulse race and her knees go weak.

"Mike?" her voice came out in a strangled whisper.

Connie noted the way his blue eyes watched her with a strange mixture of appreciation and desire. A hot, searing feeling expanded in her chest and she returned the intense gaze.

And for that split second Mike forgot all about his thoughts of keeping professionalism in the workplace.

"I was just thinking..." he stated with a sudden burst of candor, "how lovely you look sitting on my desk, Connie."

The simple but sincere answer made Connie's heart jerk as she watched Mike take a step towards her. Her lips slightly parted, invitingly encouraging him to step closer.

Just then, they heard footsteps down the hallway coming closer and they broke off their gazes while trying to look nonchalant just at the exact moment that Jack appeared at the doorway.

"I'd like a word with the two of you," Jack announced as he approached them, then stopped, "Something going on here I should know about?' he questioned, aware of some kind of unusual tension in the room, "You two weren't in the middle of _arguing_ just now, were you?"

Mike and Connie exchanged guilty looks.

"No, of course not," Mike assured him and then changed the subject, "Why did you need to talk with us, Jack?"

"I just heard what happened in court today with the Wright case," Jack did not look please, "Mike, what were you thinking? In case you have forgotten, we are prosecuting someone else besides Wesley Wright for the murder of his wife! And did you _really_ think you'd get someone as brilliant as Wesley Wright to confess to killing his wife right on the stand?"

"I admit...I may have been too quick to pull the trigger," Mike agreed, "I thought I would get a confession from Wesley Wright with the evidence that we had, but he was ready for us. He and his high-powered lawyer," Mike was shaking his head, wishing he could have the last two hours back.

"It didn't work," Jack pointed out.

"I know, I _know_," Mike rubbed the back of his neck, "so what I plan to do is continue prosecuting Jackie Remington in order to give Wesley Wright a false sense of security. Until I can recall him to the stand, that is."

Jack gave Mike a look of annoyance, "So you plan to continue with these shenanigans? I do NOT want Jackie Remington to think she is a suspect unless she really is a murderer! Did it ever occur to you to prosecute a case the regular way? You know, dismiss the case against the wrong person and then arrest and prosecute the guilty party?"

"Mike's doing the best he can with what he was given, Jack," Connie surprisingly came to Mike's defense, "This was Anderson's case, remember? We were following up on his case and we didn't expect Wright to be so...prepared. Surely you above anyone else knows how unpredictable court proceedings can be due to a witness's behavior and the jury's fickle ways."

It was unsure whether it was Connie's defense of Mike or her actual words that made Jack back down a bit.

"Yes, well...there's that," Jack seemed calmer, "I've had a few unexpected surprises come my way, too...perhaps you two need to approach this case from a different angle."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, relieved the worst of Jack's tirade was over.

"Really? It's not obvious? Do I need to hit you on the head with a hammer?" Jack asked, "because that would be assault, not leadership!"

A half smile formed on Connie's lips, "Don't tell us, directly, Jack, but at least give us a clue."

"Seems to me the two of you are looking at the big picture," Jack advised "Maybe it's the small details that are important. I don't know the specifics of the case, but anytime poison is involved, I usually ask myself, Where is the origin of this arsenic? Who obtained the poison? Did the suspect ever handle the bottle?"

"According to the file here," Connie had leaned back and retrieved the file, placing it on her lap, "After Elizabeth Wright's death, the police had scoured the residence and nearby areas and recovered a bottle of arsenic in the neighbor's bushes. Lab was able to confirm a partial fingerprint on the bottle."

Jack looked on with interest, "That certainly sounds promising. And?"

"And," Mike stated, "according to Bill Anderson's notes, It turned out the fingerprint was identified as belonging to Jackie Remington. Anderson had planned to use it as part of his evidence against her in court."

"What was Jackie Remington's explanation for the handling of the arsenic bottle?" Jack asked Mike.

"Ms. Robinson claimed last month they had a mice problem at the Wright's residence, so she suggested buying arsenic from the pharmacy," Mike explained.

"Hmmm," Jack pondered, "So anyone could have handled the arsenic at any time." He thought a little longer, " Jackie Remington stated she _thought_ of using arsenic, but was she the one who actually _picked up_ the arsenic from the pharmacy?"

"We had Lupo and Bernard recently look into it," Connie stated, "and the detectives showed pictures of both Wesley Wright and Jackie Remington to the clerks of three nearby pharmacies and no one recognized either one."

Jack looked meaningfully at both of them, "That fact alone is a clue, isn't it?"

Mike looked uncertain, but Connie's face brightened, "I suppose it is... "

"Good! So I'll leave the two of you to your own device!" Jack got ready to go, "Just don't count on me to solve _all_ your cases for you!"

Once they were alone again, Mike looked at Connie, "Did I miss something? I'm more confused than a chameleon in a bag of M and M's."

Connie smiled, " Wesley Wright and Jackie Remington are part of the 'privileged' elite. Most likely they would stand out at a pharmacy. Therefore, it's a good chance that neither one was the one who actually picked up the arsenic."

"What would it matter _who_ picked it up?" Mike asked, "we know the _last_ person who handled it was Jackie Remington."

"Think about it, Mike. Isn't it odd that there were no other discernible fingerprints on the bottle besides hers? Not even smeared ones. It had been wiped clean once it reached the Wright's residence. Someone didn't want authorities to know he or she had touched the bottle."

Mike nodded, "Okay...I'll give you that...so who does that leave us with, as far as suspects?"

Connie looked directly at him, "Who besides Wesley Wright, has total access to the Wright residence, day or night?"

Mike was mumbling the question under his breath when suddenly it dawned on him, "The Housekeeper!" he declared.

"...Give the winner a bag of M and M's!" Connie stated, looking very pleased.

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_Please review_


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